


Take Your Time

by Sour_Cherry



Category: Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: Eventual Romance, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Love, Romance, Sexual Content, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Swearing, Violence, Yusuke/Food
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-12
Updated: 2017-06-30
Packaged: 2018-10-30 22:52:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 45,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10886577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sour_Cherry/pseuds/Sour_Cherry
Summary: “The Arcana is the means by which all is revealed… there is both joy and wonder in coming to understand another…”Akira Kurusu is an ordinary high school delinquent thrust into the role of daring gentleman thief with the capability to change the world at his fingertips and don any mask of power he so wishes. Yet all his attempts at subterfuge and trickery are rendered utterly fruitless at the hands of his equally daring, femme fatale partner in crime.A tale about Akira Kurusu and Ann Takamki, and how their relationship evolves over the course of their time as righteous Phantom Thieves.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Won't bore you by retelling every single detail of the entire story again, as it's already pretty darn fantastic. This fic will focus primarily on the ship because I absolutely love the idea of Joker x Panther (^.^) – but I may take a few liberties here and there. 
> 
> Apologies for any mistakes or grammatical errors you may come across. I try to triple check everything I write but something may slip through the cracks. 
> 
> Disclaimer: The characters represented in this story, the game that this story is based on and the quote in the description are all property of Atlus Co, etc.

A droplet of water fell from the sky above and coursed its way through Akira Kurusu’s shaggy ebony hair. The feeling of water coming into contact with his skin tore through his cognizance as he emerged from the underground walkway annexed to Shibuya Station, waking him from the monotonous commute to his new school. The droplets of rain began to multiply, obstructing his vision as the drizzle bounced off his glasses. Groaning, he shielded his face with his forearm and sought refuge underneath the narrow red awning of a nearby building, hoping to wait out the lousy weather.

Around him, students scurried for cover so that they could ready their umbrellas, busy trying to remain dry and entirely immersed in their idle chatter. Akira’s back stiffened, feeling awkward as he watched them alone from his vantage point. He liberated his phone from the confines of his pocket, in an effort to portray nonchalance, but he knew full well that no correspondence awaited him on the screen, not even from his parents. Perhaps Sojiro, but even that was unlikely. The grouchy cafe owner who was now acting as his guardian only really communicated with the boy out of necessity, constantly exhibiting that he was not interested in a relationship with Akira that extended beyond what he deemed as necessary to fulfil his duties as the boy’s guardian. 

It was to be expected of course, given his recent branding as a juvenile delinquent, courtesy of his friendly neighbourhood prosecutor. 

_Tch, didn’t even get an appeal_ , he thought, resisting the urge to laugh at himself out of self-pity. 

Akira had already steeled himself for the onslaught of caution and disdain that was about to be directed at him, upon his soon-to-be classmates finding out about his criminal record. At his previous school, he hadn’t been prepared for his classmates to recoil away from him when he passed them on his last trip down the hall to clean out his locker, their statures cowering in his presence as though he had always been the hardened criminal this lawsuit portrayed him to be. The passing thought was enough to make him grit his teeth in frustration, as images of the events that had brought him here began to flash through his mind like his own personal slideshow of misfortune. 

_Buttons flew from the woman’s blouse as she cowered, revealing the thin layer of lace separating her modesty from her abuser’s calloused touch._

_Her shrill voice pierced the silence of the night as she pleaded with the tall, menacing figure looming over her._

_Akira searched the quiet suburban streets, frantically trying to locate the source of the screams, a cold sweat trickling down his back as the ruckus became more audible._

_When they came into view, he felt his legs move independently from his brain, propelling him forward before he could comprehend what was happening._

_In front of him, his hand reached out to create distance between the man and the woman before placing himself between them as her protector._

_The man’s face collided with the pavement in a loud thud as he screamed a slew of profanity and held his face in agony._

_When he stood back up, Akira saw a gush of blood trickling between his fingers as he held his hand over the wound._

_Then…_

_“Damn brat! I’ll sue!”_

Akira shook his head violently in an effort to free himself from his memories. 

“Fuck this…” he mumbled to himself, trying to contain all of the familiar emotions that twisted and turned in the pit of his stomach. 

He cradled his phone in his palm, eyes immediately drawn to the re-appearance of the mysterious mobile application that had kept downloading itself onto his phone over the last few days, despite Akira distinctly remembering that he had deleted it himself on several occasions before. The app’s creepy logo never failed to capture his full attention, with the solitary large red eye staring directly into his and causing his own gaze to falter under its prominence. A large black star was fashioned in the middle of the eye in place of a regular pupil, with jagged black protrusions emerging from every inch of the eye. His thumb hovered over the icon, primed and ready to remove the app from his phone, yet again. 

He pressed down on app’s icon, fully intending to drag it back into his phone’s trashcan, when he became distracted by a hooded figure brushing past him to retreat under the same small red marquee where Akira stood, presumably to also seek refuge from the downpour. He and the mysterious hooded figure stood a metre apart from one another, Akira quickly discerning that their attire and physique were far too feminine to be that of a male’s. His eyes began to act independently from his better judgement, immediately scanning the length of the girl’s slim legs, as they stayed clothed beneath crimson coloured tights. He noted her blazer and how it bore the same unmistakable Shujin Academy school crest that his did. 

Akira’s eyes stayed glued to her profile as he watched her fingers clutch the rim of her hood. She pulled it down slowly, unveiling her face inch by inch. Akira felt his breath immediately hitch in his throat as he felt himself gaping at the girl in awe, entirely captivated by her overall aesthetic.

Her features could not be likened to that of an ordinary Japanese girl, he knew that much. Her hair was long and bore the colour of straw, cascading over her narrow shoulders and held together in two pigtails. Her eyes managed to gleam, even against the backdrop of this bleak day. They stood out amongst all of the grey that surrounded her, doe-eyed in appearance and azure in colour. 

Something inside of him stirred, whether it was instant attraction, innocent curiosity or a mixture of both, Akira would never know – but whatever it was caused him to exert more effort than was necessary just to tear his eyes away before she started to think that he was some kind of pervert. As much as he tried to conceal it, he felt a small measure of excitement at the prospect of having their fates intertwined by the mere fact that they attended the same school, but the feeling dissipated as quickly as it came. Akira had never been unlucky with girls, being on the receiving end of a confession here and there had assured him of that. But he had also never attempted to put himself out there enough to cultivate what could be considered as a high success rate. However, something in the back of his mind told him that girls of this calibre would never spare even an iota of interest towards him – criminal record or not. 

The harsh jolt of reality finally brought him back to his senses and it dawned on him, quite painfully, that he had been staring at her for the entire length of his inner monologue. He tried to evade her notice but it was too late. She peered at him from the corner of her eye and before he could turn his head away, she turned to face him and boldly met his gaze. 

_Now would be a great time to look away_ , he told himself but to no avail. 

His eyes were fixed on hers and now operating in accordance to their own will. He expected her to scowl, call him a creep or just turn away in disgust, but he never expected that their staring contest would result in her offering him a small smile. The corners of her mouth curved upward ever so slightly and her features relaxed as she tilted her head in acknowledgement. Akira could swear that he heard a faint laugh escape her whilst doing so. The smile was fleeting, with the girl turning her attentions back to the busy street in front of them almost immediately after the fact, but it had happened – Akira was certain of this. 

It was almost as though the smile possessed an immeasurable power in disarming the slight tension that permeated between them and Akira soon found himself able to finally regain control of his senses. They stood together in silence for a few more moments before a silver car halted to a stop in front of them. The window rolled down and a man with a ridiculously squared chin and equally severe features poked his head out from the driver’s seat. 

“Good morning!” he called to the girl beside Akira. “Do you want me to give you a lift to school? You’re gonna be late.” 

In an almost imperceptible manner, Akira caught the girl hesitate before she answered. 

“Um, sure. Thank you,” she told him, smiling as she left Akira alone underneath the small roof. He stood there watching the girl walk slowly toward the car before the driver finally acknowledged him. 

“Do you need a lift too?” he asked Akira, noticing the school’s crest on his blazer. 

The man exuded an air of confidence that bordered on arrogance. Akira could tell that he carried himself proudly, disregarding all of the traditional Japanese formalities and communicating so casually with both him and the girl, as though he had already decided that both of them were beneath him and not worthy of the effort. Technically the man was not doing anything untoward, and the lift could even be construed as a thoughtful gesture. But something about the entire situation felt off and Akira already found himself smiling politely before waving his hand to decline the man’s offer. 

Seconds before the passenger window closed, Akira saw the girl’s expression shift. Her brows furrowed and her eyes were downcast, their earlier gleam shrouded by something much darker as she wore a pained expression. Akira’s gut swelled with uneasiness as his fist slowly began to clench. It wasn’t long before the car drove off and his nails began to dig into the flesh of his palm, his other hand still cradling his phone. In the distance, he heard the clamour of footsteps as they rapidly approached him. 

“Dammit… screw that pervy teacher.” 

“Pervy teacher?”

 

* * *

 

 

**K: Hey u ;)**

**Ann: Hey…**

**K: So u free 2nite?**

**Ann: I can’t.**

**K: Y? Cmon…**

**Ann: I’m not feeling well... sorry.**

 

Ann increased the intensity of her grip around the phone, not even remotely afraid of it shattering into a thousand tiny pieces whilst in her grasp. Her jaw tightened in anger as her eyes lingered over Kamoshida’s messages.

_He couldn’t even text like a decent human being_ , she thought to herself.

She closed her eyes and steadied her breathing, trying to regain her composure before stepping out into the chaos of the Shibuya streets. The rain pummelled violently to the ground in front of her, impeding her exit from the underground walkway. Around her, Shujin students scattered underneath their umbrellas, talking and laughing amongst themselves. Her stomach tightened at the sight of seeing everybody around her interact so easily with one another. It was a feat she had been unable to accomplish herself, save for the times spent with her only friend, Shiho Suzui. As she continued forward and emerged within full view of her fellow Shujin students, she spied several shifts of demeanour around her.

The groups of students who had been so absorbed in their own trivialities just moments before halted any conversation they were having just to eye her pointedly. A boy to her right with slicked auburn hair nudged his friend before they began whispering to each other, Cheshire cat sized smirks plastered across their faces. A nudge to her back startled her into coherence as she was propelled forward. She grimaced as she glanced behind her shoulder to spy who the culprit was and immediately caught sight of two girls from her class, making it a point to glare at her before linking arms and laughing cruelly amongst themselves. Her jaw began to ache from being clenched for such a prolonged time and she felt water start to well up in her tear ducts. Ann grit her teeth, willing herself to hold them back as she pulled her hood over her head. 

She scanned the Station Square, trying to locate a haven where she could wait out the rain in peace. Ahead of her was a narrow red marquee, annexed onto the side of a clothing store that she frequented. Underneath the covering she spotted a tall boy with unkempt black hair and thick-rimmed glasses leaning against the wall of the store, gawking at the smart phone in his hand. His body was lean but had a natural slouch that portrayed him as lankier than he may have been. She concluded that he must have been new to the school, as she was sure that she hadn’t seen him once before today and she had spent a lot of time observing her classmates when sitting alone and waiting for Shiho to finish volleyball practice. 

Ann found herself inadvertently shuddering at the mere thought of volleyball as she weaved between the groups of Shujin students scattered around the Station Square, likening them to landmines that she was trying to avoid stepping on before they could harm her. She tried to block out their whispers, but to no avail. Each word stinging her ears as though she had just walked faced first into a hornet’s nest. 

“Look, it’s Kamoshida’s whore.” 

“Who does she think she is…? What a slut.” 

“C’mon, man! She’s gotta be easy! I mean, look at her…”

She brushed past the boy that she had already deemed ‘Glasses Boy’ in her mind, taking her place a metre away from him as she planted herself underneath the red awning and faced the congested Shibuya streets. She removed her hood, trying to get a better view of the situation so that she could judge how long the rain would keep her marooned underneath the covering. In the corner of her eye she could detect Glasses Boy’s eyes burning a hole in the side of her head, but for the sake of avoiding more conflict, she chose to ignore it. 

_Once he gets his fill, he’ll look away_ , she thought to herself, angling her head so that she could acquire a better view of the clouds. 

The rain exhibited no signs of relenting. She sighed and resigned herself to being stranded there for a few more minutes whilst a complete stranger ogled her. Unable to stand being treated like a solitary fish on display at an aquarium, she turned toward the voyeur, expecting to come face to face with the same predatory gaze and demented smirk that Kamoshida sported every time that he looked at her. Instead she was met with eyes bearing a hue akin to dark steel, enigmatic and inquisitive, as they stayed shielded beneath the lens of his spectacles. 

Messy strands of jet-black hair hung lazily around the edges of his face and his thin lips were parted ever so slightly. There was no malice in his gaze and his overall demeanour did not betray any signs of a salacious intent, rather, he exhibited an almost childlike curiosity as continued to hold her gaze. Outwardly, he portrayed the visage of nondescript adolescent boy, evoking a mild air of mystery. But upon closer inspection, Ann took notice of his refined features, juxtaposed with a devilish aura that was only accentuated by the faint glint in his charcoal grey eyes. 

Try as she might, she could not muster the anger and annoyance required to glare at him or berate him for staring too long. Instead she found herself smiling, a reflex that was almost unnatural for her when she was in the presence of anybody that wasn’t Shiho. She allowed a soft giggle to escape her lips before she swiftly turned her attentions back to the road ahead of her. 

_Who is this guy?_ She asked herself, unsure as to why such a brief exchanged had suddenly piqued her curiosity. 

She allowed a few moments to pass before she begun to wonder if she should strike up a conversation with him, perhaps she could even befriend him before his opinion of her became tainted by the vicious rumours and gossip that surrounded her and dictated everyone’s disposition toward her. But ultimately that seemed inevitable and soon, he would just be another student snickering behind her back when she passed him in school. 

Before she could speculate further, a familiar vehicle parked itself in front of the two students. The window began to roll down slowly, but it needn’t have gone down all the way for Ann to ascertain who the driver was. She had seen this car stop alongside her almost every afternoon when she left school, it’s beige leather interior an all too familiar sight as its driver beckoned her to enter. Realising that she was in the company of another student, Kamoshida wore a congenial expression to disguise his carnal intent. 

“Good morning!” he called to her. “Do you want me to give you a lift to school? You’re gonna be late.” 

Ann knew what would happen if she refused and she didn’t have the energy to conjure a reason as to why she couldn’t. She mustered an artificial smile as she politely accepted his offer, leaving her perplexing companion to wait out the downpour alone. She was not surprised when Kamoshida extended the offer to him, it was the ‘beloved’ volleyball coach’s way of maintaining appearances. Ann found herself slightly amused at the boy’s refusal, his pensive demeanour instantly replaced by a bashful smile as he waved off Kamoshida’s offer. 

_Lucky you_ , she thought, feeling Kamoshida’s hand snake against her upper thigh as he brought it back onto the steering wheel.

She began to buckle up, the weightless fabric of the seatbelt feeling uncharacteristically heavy against her body, as though it were pinning her down into the passenger seat. Ann’s emotions betrayed her when she rolled the window back up. She was no longer able to mask her melancholy, lamenting the sounds of the city as they began to recede until all that she was left with was the feeling of suffocation that was all too familiar to her.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all!! Thank you so much for all of your feedback :) 
> 
> As i've stated previously, this will not be an exact retelling of the game's narrative, so I will try to stay as true to the original dialogue where I can but I will also be taking a lot of liberties with it, particularly Akira's.

_“Call upon my name, and release thy rage! Show the strength of thy will to ascertain all on thine own, though thou be chained to Hell itself.”_

Arsene’s words echoed repetitively in Akira’s mind, the weight that they carried only fuelling his mental and physical fatigue. Awakening to his persona had been the most painful experience that he had ever undergone. The torture of having to face himself and come to terms with the demons that he had tried to bury deep within his cognizance had manifested itself into actual physical pain and the agony was incomparable to any other trauma that he had ever experienced. This, coupled with the utter disbelief and malarkey of actually having traipsed around in a castle that was a physical manifestation of their deranged volleyball coach’s distorted desires, and defending themselves from hostile shadows who would not bat an eye at the prospect of killing them whilst being guided by a talking cat, made the trek to the rooftop all the more laborious for Akira.

He was en route to meet Ryuji Sakamoto, fellow captive of ‘King Kamoshida’ and the only other person in the world that could sympathise with the absolute absurdity of what Akira had just experienced. 

“Drinking, smoking, theft… I heard this guy’s done it all.” 

Akira stifled a laugh upon hearing his classmates’ gossip about his delinquency as he walked passed them in the school’s hallway. It had only taken half a day for him to become the hot topic on everyone’s lips, his criminal record proving to be even more tantalising gossip than anything currently featured on the front page of every tabloid lining the newsstands. Initially, he feared the thought of being a social pariah amongst his peers, but awakening to his persona and coming within an arms reach of his own demise had a way of putting things into perspective and strangely, he found himself wholly amused the more baseless and absurd the rumours got. 

 _What’s next?_ He thought. _That I pick my teeth with the bones of victims and use their hollowed out skulls to drink the tears of their loved ones?_  

Walking through the first year’s corridor was particularly amusing, with his underclassmen actively going out of their way to give him a wide berth when meandered too close. He rounded the corner and climbed up the last flight of stairs to the school’s rooftop, taking a moment to adjust his glasses before pushing the door open. Immediately he was greeted by the sight of the Tokyo skyline against the backdrop of the afternoon sky painted with an array of pink and orange. The view was a sight to behold, but as his gaze shifted toward Ryuji Sakamoto, he could immediately tell that the view did not make the same impression on the faux blonde boy.   

Ryuji flashed him a sombre expression, rocking back and forth on one of the discarded chairs scattered along the rooftop’s surface. 

“…There you are,” he called out to Akira. 

“Here I am.” 

“Sorry for callin’ you up here like this… I bet Kawakami told you stuff like ‘don’t get involved with him’, huh?” Ryuji spat. 

Akira’s mind wandered back to the conversation he had just had with his homeroom teacher, essentially affirming Ryuji’s accusations. Akira shrugged nonchalantly, placing his hands inside of his pockets to accentuate his lack of concern over the teacher’s warning. 

“She said you’re trouble,” he replied. “But who am I to judge, right?” 

“Heh, so I take it you’ve heard all the rumours that have been going around about you? Means we’re in the same boat. You have a criminal record right?”

“Hmm, you don’t mince words do you? Yeah, that much is true at least. The part about me being an escapee of a high security mental asylum? Not so much…” 

Ryuji snickered, “Yeah the rumors are all pretty ridic but now I get why you were so gutsy in the castle, man!” 

He paused, his expression thoughtful as though he were trying to come to terms with the next words he would speak before he said them out loud.                                                                                                                                

“… What was all that that happened? You know, how we almost got killed in a castle…?” he continued, searching Akira’s eyes as if they held all of the answers that he needed to hear. “It wasn’t a dream…right? You remember it too, yeah?” 

Akira hesitated before responding, his brain was still trying to compute the outlandish occurrences. Would acknowledging something as absurd as a world based entirely on the human cognition make him insane? If he did, he would be deeming it as reality and there was no way something that farfetched could possibly be reality. He would have dismissed every thought or opinion that told him otherwise, but he had experienced this ‘metaverse’ first hand and he donned the bruises and scars from their first foray to prove it. 

_Dammit, Ryuji._

How could he expect Akira to justify the existence of events that were completely ludicrous without making the boy feel as though he actually did belong inside of a high security mental asylum? 

“Yes…” Akira finally responded. “And no… I don’t know.” 

Ryuji shrugged, clearly not as conflicted as Akira, “well just ‘cause we both remember it doesn’t mean much…but even if it was a dream, you saved me from Kamoshida. So yeah… thanks, Akira.” 

Akira’s head jolted upward, startled by the sincerity that laced Ryuji’s words. The boy raised his fist in Akira’s direction, flashing him an earnest smile as he waited for Akira to reciprocate the gesture. The dark haired boy stared at his companion’s fist, entirely mystified. ‘Friend’ would not be the right word he would use to describe the other teens that he had associated with back home. They were polite enough of course, at least before he acquired his criminal branding. Some even went so far as to ask him how we was on occasion and even make a show of caring about his response. But all of those interactions were superficial and borne out of social convention, with each participant unwilling to pursue anything more substantial. 

“Bro… don’t leave me hanging…” 

Akira felt his lips begin to curl into a smirk and eventually he relented, lightly tapping his fist against Ryuji’s. Satisfied by his response, Ryuji shifted the conversation back to the castle and it’s ruler. Ryuji explained the rumours that were circulating about Kamoshida, the ‘ripped mophead’, and how they were analogous to the disturbing images that they had been confronted with in the castle. Everybody who seemed to be aware of these abuses proved unwilling to testify against him due to his prolific status as an Olympic gold medallist, afraid that they would crumble under his influence. Kamoshida even had the school’s staff wrapped around his finger, with the administration going to great lengths to conceal his infractions because of the prestige he brought to the school by virtue of the volleyball team’s countless victories whilst under his leadership.   

Akira could not help but let his mind wander back to his encounter with the foreign-looking girl from this morning. By some twist of fate, he had ended up in her class, with their homeroom teacher assigning Akira the seat right behind her. He had finally learned that her name was Ann Takamaki, and she did not waste any time in calling him out on his bullshit when he feebly tried to conjure an excuse as to why he had missed more than half of his first day. Her morose expression as she climbed into Kamoshida’s car that morning flashed across his mind. He pondered their connection, asking himself why she would even accept a lift from someone she was clearly uncomfortable with. The entire student body, save for Ryuji and himself, seemed to harbour a great admiration for Kamoshida, despite the rumours. And yet, this girl exhibited a blatant discomfort in his presence. 

 _Just what was her deal?_ He thought to himself. _What is her connection with Kamoshida?_  

“Yo, bro! Are you even listening, man?” Ryuji asked, nudging him. 

Akira shook the thoughts from his mind, giving his full attention back to Ryuji before the boy continued. 

“Well whatever…I wonder if we can go back to that castle…”

 

* * *

 

The volleyball rally was in full swing, with Kamoshida capitalising on every opportunity to act like the king that he perceived himself to be, even going so far as to exhibit false humility when his colleagues congratulated him every time he scored a point. Ryuji sat next to him on the sidelines, freshly awakened to the powers of his Persona, Captain Kidd, and determined to expose Kamoshida for his maltreatment of the volleyball team. 

Akira scanned the players representing the students, his eyes zeroing in on a boy named, Yuuki Mishima. Mishima was a quiet kid from his class who opted to keep to himself most of the time. Akira had never seen him bereft of the crestfallen expression he wore at this moment, and each day he came into class donning a new ‘volleyball’ injury. Akira considered that he would make the perfect witness to testify to Kamoshida’s abuses, his appearance alone was enough to cause a stir. But this would require them to actually convince Mishima to speak out, and Akira had a feeling that the volleyball’s loyalty would not be an easy commodity to acquire for their cause. 

“Still sticks out…hasn’t changed a bit,” he heard Ryuji mumble. Akira turned to face his friend, expecting to be the one that he was addressing. Instead, Ryuji’s gaze was angled toward his right and fixated on a certain natural blonde, twirling strands of hair around finger in the distance. Her mind seemed entirely occupied, not registering the presence of the rowdy female students beside her, loudly singing Kamoshida’s praises as they cheered him on. Ryuji had his arms folded, leaning them against his knees as he continued to scrutinize her. 

Akira’s eyes darted between his friend and Ann, trying to discern what was transpiring. Detecting Akira’s attentions, Ryuji immediately pulled his focus from her. He yawned, in an attempt to appear casual and began complaining about his boredom. He did not offer an explanation and Akira did not feel the need to pry, but he couldn’t help but spare one more glance at the girl and his friend, a faint smile beginning to form on his lips when his mind began to make certain inferences. 

 _Don’t jump to any conclusions, Akira._  

Both boys turned their attentions back to the game, just in time to witness Kamoshida execute a powerful spike that soared through the air and straight into Mishima’s face, knocking the boy out cold. Akira’s eyes narrowed when he caught Kamoshida smirk for a split second before playing the concerned coach and running to Mishima’s aid. The scene was enough to fuel their disgust and they remained resolute in their mission. 

“He’ll pay soon enough…” 

The boys tried to capitalise on the commotion caused by the volleyball rally and took the opportunity to sneak out of the gym so that they could execute their plan to locate Kamoshida’s victims and convince them to speak out against his crimes. All of the drive and hope that they had cultivated before embarking on their crusade had completely evaporated upon discovering that trying to convince the injured players was an ultimately fruitless task. Akira could not understand if their devotion was derived from their loyalty or fear, with each player ready and willing to vehemently deny the allegations made against their coach. They decided to regroup, designating the area near the outdoor vending machines as their meeting place. 

Akira paced around the spot, hands in his pockets as he patiently awaited Ryuji’s arrival. As much as he enjoyed the company of his new friend, the boy constantly exhibited signs of being easily irritable, and Akira could already envision his friend not taking kindly to their efforts resulting in nought. He sighed and leant his forearm against a nearby vending machine, pressing his forehead against the glass and examining the array of colours from the different types of beverages inside out of boredom. He opened his mouth and released a breath of air onto the surface of the glass, drawing a star in the condensation with his finger – a habit from his childhood that he had yet to grow out of. 

“Can I talk to you for a sec…?” said a familiar voice behind him. 

He turned his head slightly to acknowledge Ann’s presence, eyeing her questioningly before prying himself away from the vending machine and giving her his full attention. 

“I’m kind of busy…” he murmured, hands sliding into his pockets. 

“Yeah, looks like it. Pretty star,” she smirked, pointing past him to what he had just ‘drawn’ on the vending machine. 

Akira felt a build up of heat permeating underneath his cheeks. He was mildly embarrassed that he had been caught out for doing something so childish, but not enough to fumble and stutter. He quickly regained his composure and shrugged. 

“It’s my best work yet.” 

Ann supressed a smile, choosing to ignore his sarcasm. 

“It’ll be quick,” she assured him, folding her arms across her chest and sizing him up. “Anyways, what’s with you? Like, how you were late the other day and totally lied about it… there’s that weird rumour going around about you too.” 

Akira sighed, trying not to get defensive at the girl’s barrage of questions. He couldn’t afford to antagonise yet another person at this school, with the Principal, Kamoshida and Kawakami already breathing down his neck and watching him like a hawk. Not to mention the entire student body monitoring his every move with a magnifying glass in anticipation of ‘Crimeboy’s’ grand explosion of violence. But he couldn’t help but wonder what all of this information had to do with her. She was obviously invested enough to approach him about it directly, a stunt that Akira had to give her credit for, but he could not help but ask himself why. Couldn’t she just speculate and fill in the blanks like everybody else? 

“So concerned for your fellow classmate, are we?” he joked, his expression placid. 

She narrowed her cerulean eyes at him, Akira trying not to notice how attractive she looked doing so. She opened her mouth to speak but was immediately cut off by Ryuji’s sudden appearance. 

“Whaddya want with him?” Ryuji asked in an accusatory tone. 

“Right back at you. You’re not even in our class,” she responded.

There was a small measure of underlying hostility present in their interaction, but it wasn’t hard to detect that there was also a certain familiarity present in the way that the two communicated with one another. Ann had finally reached her limit when she came out and asked them directly about their intentions with Kamoshida, probably having caught wind of their amateur sleuthing. Ryuji started to bumble, trying to find an appropriate response to her questions. His solution was to turn on the defensive, alluding to Ann having an intimate connection with the volleyball coach and causing Akira's stomach to flutter when he remembered cognitive Ann's racy outfit.  

She grimaced in response to his accusation, shaking her head in frustration. 

“This has nothing to do with you, Sakamoto!” 

Ryuji shook his head, “If you found out what he was doing behind your back, you’d dump him right away.”

Ann’s eyes widened. 

“Behind my back? What’s that supposed to mean…?” 

“You wouldn’t get it,” Ryuji replied dismissively. 

Akira, who had been standing in complete silence as he watched the altercation unfold, cleared his throat in an effort to ease the tension. 

“Look, you obviously came here for a reason. So, why don’t you just tell us what you need to,” he suggested calmly, trying to pacify the tempers that were flaring. 

Ann tore her eyes away from Ryuji and peered into his. She chewed on her bottom lip as though she was stopping herself from saying something that would only prolong the argument. 

“People are already talking about you two. I don’t know what you’re trying to pull but no one is gonna help you,” she disclosed to them, confirming Akira’s suspicions that she had found out about their little inquisition into Kamoshida. “I’m warning you just in case. That’s all…” 

Ryuji opened his mouth to speak but Akira quickly interjected before his partner could say something that would ruin the last ounce of goodwill they had with this girl. 

“Thanks,” he said flatly, signifying the end of their conversation. 

She eyed them both before taking off, leaving the boys to discuss their findings, or rather, lack thereof.

 

* * *

 

The next day, slightly dejected at their most recent failure, Akira and Ryuji decided to devise a new plan of attack for the Kamoshida investigation. As he absentmindedly trudged through one of the school’s many corridors, Akira found himself almost colliding with a tall, dark-haired girl he had identified as Shiho Suzui. He had seen this girl around school before, mostly in the company of Ann Takamaki. Ryuji confirmed that the two were best friends and had been since middle school, also noting that Shiho was a starting member of the volleyball team. 

She looked up from her phone, Akira immediately noticing the deep purple bruise above her right eye. 

“Sorry, I should’ve been paying more attention,” he told her, scratching the back of his head.

“What..?” she asked absentmindedly, her mind clearly elsewhere. “O-oh it’s no big deal. I’m kind of in the way aren’t I? Sorry…” 

Akira spied the wraps on her knee and wrist, spotting several other bruises and cuts along the way. 

“Are you hurt?” he asked her without thinking, immediately chastising himself in his head for being so abrupt. 

Shiho squirmed, clearly uncomfortable at his question. She refrained from giving him a direct answer, dancing around the subject with feeble assurances that she was fine. He knew that he was already troubling her, so he did not want to perpetuate her discomfort further. He nodded his head and sighed, bidding her a farewell. Before he could leave, she called out to him in an effort to delay his exit from their conversation. 

She spoke, “You’re the transfer student, aren’t you? I’m sorry, I just don’t think I’ve seen you around before so I just assumed. I’m Shiho Suzui.” 

He nodded, expecting the introduction to be a lead in for questions she had concerning his past. She clearly knew about all of the scandals that plagued him, referring to him as _the_ transfer student instead of _a_ transfer student. It was only natural for somebody to have questions, given that his criminal record had been made public knowledge, courtesy of Kamoshida. But the day had been a long one, and Akira was too exhausted to entertain them. 

 _Well, I guess its only fair. I did just try to pry into her business, after all_ , he reasoned with himself. 

“Umm… w-well, this might not be any of my business, but don’t let the rumours get to you, okay?” Shiho said reassuringly. “My best friend is often misunderstood too, all because of her looks…” 

Akira stared at her, mouth agape and genuinely surprised at the turn this conversation had taken. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to drag on like that…” 

“N-no!” he exclaimed. “Its just uhh…” 

He wracked his brain for an appropriate response but none came to him. He was prepared to deflect any questions she may have had or any accusations that she would try to insinuate, but he never counted on her trying to offer him support. He looked away, feeling almost bashful at his loss for words.

“Thanks, Suzui” he told her finally. “I… really appreciate it. Truly.” 

She smiled at him, a gesture that he returned before excusing himself and continuing on his way.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank y'all soo much for your kudos and comments :') <3

Ann yawned, unable to suppress her body’s natural reflex to being both physically and emotionally spent. Her earlier conversation with Shiho was at the forefront of her mind, occupying every crevice of her thoughts. Throughout their years of friendship, Ann had never witnessed her friend as somber and distressed as she was during their talk, unable to muster even a faint smile for Ann’s benefit. She could also no longer ignore the plethora of fresh injuries Shiho seemed to be sporting every time that they saw each other. There was no doubt in her mind that Kamoshida was the primary catalyst for all of the misfortune that had befallen her best friend – after all, he was at the centre of all her problems too. 

She wanted to be strong for Shiho, bold enough to steel her nerves so that she could withstand anything that Kamoshida had in store for her without batting an eye. But the feeling of disgust that coursed through her veins whenever someone even dared utter his name was too overpowering to conceal. Truth be told, she envied Ryuji and the new transfer student, Akira Kurusu. Akira in particular had not been at the school long enough to be subjected to the full display of Kamoshida’s depravity and yet, he and Ryuji were more than willing to embark on some ill-advised crusade to put a stop to it. She had never felt more helpless than when she confronted them in the school’s courtyard, making a feeble attempt to build a connection with the two boys so that she could feel like she was contributing. 

The entire situation ultimately backfired on her when she was made to defend herself against Ryuji’s perverse accusations. The insinuations rocked her to her core and it angered her that Ryuji had been so ready to believe them, especially given their cordial associations in middle school. But she could hardly blame him for buying into the rumours when she was accepting rides to school with the very man that had caused her to become the subject of these derogatory whispers.

The sound of her phone ringing brought her back into the present, standing in the middle of the Station Square amidst all of the afternoon commuters. She hesitated before peering at the screen, the butterflies in her stomach beginning to frenzy in anticipation of who the caller could be. 

 _Dammit, Kamoshida,_  she thought to herself as she saw the letter ‘K’ flash across her screen.  

She answered the phone, her voice faltering when she attempted to greet him with a simple ‘hello’. 

“So…” he slurred on the other end. “Ready to fulfil our little promise?” 

She shook her head in annoyance, “I-I umm, I’m not feeling up to it today. I’m sorry, I just don’t feel well.”  

“Come on now, Ann. That was your excuse two weeks ago. Last week it was a modelling job. You’re gonna have to try a lot harder than that to throw me off the scent.” 

She balled her free hand into a fist, trying to contain her anger. 

“I’m sorry,” she managed, through gritted teeth. “I really don’t feel well today.”  

“Come on…Your looks don’t really suit that ‘hard to get’ front you're putting up.”  

“Will you please give it a rest?! I told you, I’m not feeling up to it…” she cursed, unable to mask her irritation any longer.   

“Fuck this!” he growled. “Fine, if you want to renege on your promise now, then your little friend Suzui is about to pay the consequences for your mistake. You’ll be seeing a lot more of her now that she's about to lose her starting position.”

Ann’s eyes widened in disbelief. 

_This can’t be real…_

“Wait…What!? That’s not what you promised! And you call yourself a teacher! This has nothing to do with Shiho, leave her out of this!” 

She gasped when Kamoshida brought their conversation to an end, her entire body started shaking upon hearing the dial tone. Her heart began to beat violently against her ribcage, each breath that she took more strenuous than the last. Beads of cold sweat fell from the sides of her face as panic surged throughout her entire body. Her knees gave in and she dropped to the ground, burying her face in the palms of her hands. She did not care a wit about all of the witnesses to her breakdown, Kamoshida had left her no choice.

Ann suddenly detected footsteps approaching her. She felt a presence looming above her but the culprit remained silent, making no effort to draw her attention to them. Peering through the cracks between her fingers, she spotted the unmistakable Shujin Academy check pants and a pair of black leather boots, that she swore she had seen somewhere before. She jumped up instinctively, the top of her head almost colliding with Akira Kurusu’s chin. 

“What the hell! What are you doing here?” she screamed as he adjusted his spectacles. “Wait… were you listening?”  

He did not respond to her question right away, instead choosing to gape at her in complete silence. The severity of his gaze was intense and unwavering, his eyes exhibiting a colour that was much darker than their natural hue.

He allowed a few more moments to pass in complete silence before he finally decided to speak. 

“Yes, I was eavesdropping. I heard everything,” he admitted boldly, his expression remained unchanged.  

“Haven’t you heard of privacy?” 

“Yes and I value it,  _a lot_. But … How do you expect me to ignore something like this?”

“It’s nothing…” she replied in a voice so faint, it was almost a whisper.  

This was all too much. The build up of emotion had materialised as a lump in her throat that she could no longer stand. She knew that the last ounce of control that she possessed over her emotions would be lost if she said anything more. She could sense his eyes trying to search for hers, but she could not bring herself to meet his gaze.  

“Takamaki, I – “  

“I said, it’s nothing!" she cried, an errant tear rolling down her cheek. Without thinking, she bolted as fast and far away as she could from the boy, pushing and shoving her way through the congested underground walkway. She did not care where her legs took her, as long as they kept moving forward. Her body soon reached the limits of its physicality, forcing her to stop when she reached the juice stand. The tears had finally stopped and were replaced with a tightening in her throat and a shortness of breath. Before she could completely regain her senses, she detected Akira’s presence behind her again. 

 She spun around aggressively and shoved him away, chastising him for following her. 

“Just leave me alone!” she told him.

“I can’t,” he replied placidly, daring not to move an inch from where stood. 

 She stared at him incredulously, his expression unreadable as their chests heaved up and down with each onerous breath they took. Ann willed herself to feel as irritated and enraged as she imagined she appeared to be, but ultimately she knew that she did not want to be alone.

“Why…? Why do you keep worrying about me?”

He shrugged, “I-I really don’t know.”                             

And with those words, she finally unleashed, claiming Akira Kurusu as a victim to the torrent of emotions that she had been desperately trying to hold back.   

 

* * *

 

Ann folded her arms stubbornly, refusing to utter a word as she wondered why on earth she had agreed to come to a diner with a boy who was almost a complete stranger to her. 

She eyed him with curiosity as he sat across from her, so consumed as he used his finger to trace various shapes in the condensation that had materialised on his drinking glass filled with ice water. 

She had caught him doing this once before, a childish mannerism that she could not help but find somewhat endearing despite the situation. Akira managed to catch her staring, cocking an eyebrow when their eyes met and she purposefully hardened her expression. He sighed, running a hand through his hair and moving the glass away, signifying that she had his full attention.   

He looked at her expectantly but her gaze remained defiant.

“I’ve got nothing to say to you,” she told him dismissively, pursing her lips and turning away.  

“Then why did you come?”

She clicked her tongue indignantly, “umm, because you basically  _forced_  me to.” 

“What!?” he responded in disbelief. “No I didn’t!”

“Yes, you did.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Yes. You. Did.”

He narrowed his eyes at her, brows furrowed. He could sense that she was brimming with opposition and contempt, and knew that he would not get anywhere if he continued to press his point. He removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes in exasperation. Ann could not help but take notice of his lashes, completely envious that she required copious amounts of mascara to achieve even a fraction of their length and volume. 

_Why are these things wasted on guys?_

“Okay,” Akira replied, slowly putting his glasses back on. “Maybe I did  _ask_  you to come here with me. So sue me for giving a shit.” 

Ann bit her lip, torn between trying to maintain her headstrong façade and capitulating to her ultimate desire to finally be able to confide in somebody.

“It was…just an argument, okay?” she said, unsure whether she was trying to assure him or herself. 

“With Kamoshida." 

She noticed that he did not phrase that as a question. He knew exactly what was going on and there was no more point in trying to play demure with the truth. She cradled the side of her face with her palm, using her free hand to draw lines up and down the length of her napkin.

“You’ve heard the rumours… haven’t you?” she asked rhetorically, already knowing his response. 

“About me and…Kamoshida,” she continued. “Everyone says we’re getting it on… but…that’s so not true!” 

Akira grunted and looked away, unable to mask his distaste but exhibiting no signs of wanting to interrupt her diatribe. 

“That was him on the other line. I avoided giving him my number for the longest time but… he wants me to go to his place after this.” 

She picked up the napkin, crushing it in the palm of her hand to accentuate her anger.

“You know what that means,” she spat. “If I turn him down, he’s going to take my friend off as a regular on the team. I’ve been telling myself that this is all for Shiho’s sake, but I can’t take it anymore!”

Ann heard him gasp, clearly perturbed by what he was hearing. Ordinarily Akira was exceptional at maintaining his cool and collected exterior, never breaking a sweat at the whispers and gossip that had circulated about him. Yet, Ann found herself oddly comforted by the fact that he struggled to keep his cool in this situation - it validated her anger . In a roundabout way, Akira’s intrusion in her private life had become a welcome one, making her feel less alone and giving her the modicum of strength that she so desperately needed. 

“I’ve had enough of this…I hate him!” she declared, grabbing fistfuls of her skirt as her emotions continued to go haywire. “But… Shiho is my best friend. She’s all I have left at that sorry excuse of a school!”

Her tears burst forth like an unrelenting stream. Under any other circumstances she would have been humiliated at even the prospect of breaking down in front of a stranger but at this moment, she couldn’t bring herself to care about such trivialities.

“Tell me,” she continued, beckoning Akira to look her in the eye. “What should I do?” 

He accepted her challenge, peering directly into her bloodshot eyes with his usual unflappable disposition. His gaze appeared resolute, Ann detecting an underlying determination in the aura that he projected. She marveled at how quickly his demeanor seemed to shift. All of his actions were so measured and composed, occasionally offering onlookers a glimpse into his train of thought but just as quickly taking it away with a shrug or a smirk. Upon realising that she had been staring at him for longer than what could be considered as a socially acceptable time frame, she quickly averted her gaze. 

“I-I’m sorry…I shouldn’t have asked you. It’s not your problem.”

“Don’t say that,” he replied.

“I’ve barely even talked to you before…”

“Maybe that’s why.”

She considered his hypothesis.

“Yeah, maybe you’re right. You know… you’re so weird. Everyone usually just ignores me,” she told him, allowing a self-depreciating laugh to escape her.   

“Me too,” he replied matter-of-factly, leaning forward.

She smiled at his deadpan observation, wondering if now would be an appropriate time to probe him for more information about his past. She had already revealed so much of herself to him in the last few hours and she concluded that it was now his time to return the favour.

“Are you really as bad a person as the rumours say?” she asked him earnestly. “You just don’t seem like it…” 

He smiled, staring down at the table’s oak surface as strands of his unkempt locks fell across his face. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to brush the errant strands away from his eyes. He tilted his head slightly, angling his eyes upward to find hers.

“I’m bad to the bone,” he replied, his lips slowly taking the form of a smirk. 

She stared at him blankly, mouth agape. She hadn’t expected that response and allowed a few more moments of silence to pass before she found herself giggling. 

“The ‘whore’ and the ‘criminal’,” she scoffed. “What a pair we make.”

“The best that society has to offer,” he jokingly affirmed.

Their eyes met as their laughter began to die down. Something about their eye contact felt different this time, and Ann’s skin began to prickle with anticipation as an unfamiliar heat surged through her body, crawling its way slowly up to her face. She quickly tore her eyes away from his, gathering her things in an effort to dispel the tension. 

“You’re going?” he asked.

“U-uh…yeah, it’s getting late.” 

She pushed herself out of the booth before stopping in her tracks. Her thoughts drifting back to Shiho as her shoulders slumped. 

“Is there really no way for me to help Shiho? I wish he'd just change his mind... like, forget about me or any of this. You know?” 

Akira appeared thoughtful as he considered her plea.

“Maybe – Hmm, never mind,” he said mysteriously, absentmindedly strumming his long fingers against the table.

Ann eyed him suspiciously, wanting to probe him further about what was going through his mind, but a quick glance to her phone told her that time had finally caught up to them.

“I’m gonna head home,” she told him, standing up and hoisting her bag onto her shoulder. “Don’t tell anyone about what I told you, okay? I’ll think of a way to persuade Kamoshida.” 

He offered her nothing more than a simple nod as his response.

“Well… thanks,” she said, finally bidding him a farewell.

“Anytime, Takamaki,” he said quietly, after assuring himself that she was out of earshot. 

 

* * *

 

When Ann finally returned to the secure confines of her room, she expected to end the day with a well-deserved slumber. Sleep had been calling to her all day and she had been more than ready to succumb to the respite. It wasn’t until she climbed into the covers, the Egyptian cotton caressing her skin in a manner pleasant enough to lull even the most seasoned caffeine addict to sleep, that she realised that it would not come as easily to her as she initially perceived. Her body pleaded with her brain to switch off, but it remained in overdrive trying to come to grips with the day’s occurrences. 

As serious and crucial as her conversations with both Shiho and Kamoshida were, Ann would be lying to herself if she said that they were the ultimate catalyst for her sudden restlessness. Instead, her brain chose to focus itself on her interaction with Akira Kurusu, scrutinizing every single detail as the memory replayed in her mind in a continuous loop. It wasn’t even the gravity of their conversation that weighed on her; instead, she became so consumed with every minor detail that she was forced to resign herself to a sleepless night.

It wasn’t as though she  _wanted_  to care about how her makeup might have looked to him after she finished crying.

Or whether he found her laugh irritating.

Or even wonder if he thought that she stared at him too much.

But these frivolous concerns occupied each and every one of her thoughts last night and now she stood in front of the Shujin Academy school building, chastising herself for even allowing these things to enter her consciousness when there were more pressing concerns to be had. She could not even settle on how to greet him when she saw him or even if she should approach him at all. He had gone from a complete stranger to her only confidante in the span of a day and Ann did not know what the correct etiquette would be. She told herself that the decision would come to her when she saw him but now that the moment of truth was finally upon her, she remained just as clueless as she had been the night before.

She groaned and started her trudge up the stairs leading to the school’s main entrance. She pushed through the double doors and continued on her way to class, each step more measured than the last. Her heart leapt when she felt a hand on shoulder, too large and it’s touch too firm to belong to Shiho. She spun around, expecting to come face to face with the same gunmetal eyes and tousled ebony hair that had become so familiar to her. Instead, she was faced with bleached blonde hair, a toothy grin and a bright yellow shirt bearing the slang ‘ZOMG’. 

“Sakamoto,” she sighed, her heart rate slowly reverting back to its normal pace. “What’s up? What do you want?”   

“Ouch, so cold,” he replied, clutching his chest in jest. 

She narrowed her eyes. 

“How do you expect me to react? You basically accused me of sleeping with Kamoshida.” 

“Yeah about that…” 

“Yes?” 

Ryuji sighed, “I’m sorry, Takamaki. I really shouldn’t have attacked you like that, I-I know the rumours aren’t true.” 

 _Wait,_  she thought to herself.  _How would he know that?_

“Did Akira say something?” she asked him, her tone serious.  

Ryuji’s eyes widened in surprise, his expression exhibiting a degree of confusion that managed to assuage Ann’s concerns.    

“Akira? What’s he gotta do with this?”

“U-uhh, it’s nothing. I’m just tired.” 

Ryuji cocked an eyebrow in her direction, not buying Ann’s flimsy excuse but also not wishing to offend her again. 

“Alright then, Takamaki,” he sighed. “Catch you on the flip!” 

He waved goodbye before disappearing down the corridor, allowing Ann to resume her journey to the classroom. She really appreciated that Ryuji had taken the time to apologise to her. She had always wanted to reinstate the friendly relationship they shared in middle school but was always too hesitant and apprehensive to take the first step.  Maybe now they could at least greet each other in the halls without any underlying tension.

Ann finally managed to reach 2D’s classroom, peering through the window fixed onto the door so that she could grasp a better view of the situation before she entered. She spotted Akira, looking down at the small cubby fastened underneath his desk. She could see his lips moving as though he were talking or mumbling, but no one else in the classroom seemed to be engaged in any sort of communication with him.

 _God, why is he so freaking weird?_   

She took a deep breath and entered, fully intending to greet him as nonchalantly as she could so it didn’t look like she had been agonising over this moment for the last 10 hours. But as she drew closer, she immediately changed her mind, opting to retreat to her desk without acknowledging him instead. She could have sworn she caught a glimpse of a black tail with a white tip poking out of the cubby underneath his desk, but she chalked it up to her mind conjuring ridiculous hallucinations because of her nerves. 

“Yo, Takamaki,” she heard him say behind her in his usual calm tone, causing her insides to somersault. 

“U-uhh, hey…” she answered, slowly shifting her body in his direction. “How are you?” 

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” 

She rolled her eyes, “I’m fine…you don’t need to worry.” 

“Then I won’t,” he told her simply.

Ann swallowed, frustrated that he was so hard to read.

“Listen,” she told him, detecting the somber shift in her own tone. “I want to thank you.”  

“Huh? But you already did.” 

“W-what? When?” 

“Last night,” he replied matter-of-factly. He brought his elbow to the table, propping up his chin with his hand as he peered at her curiously.  

Ann began to feel self-conscious under his scrutiny, averting her eyes so that she was looking at his shoes instead. 

“You’re impossible sometimes, you know that? I try to thank you and you totally shut me down,” she pouted, feigning sadness.  

He laughed, the sound oddly pleasant to her ears.

“I’m sorry. I suppose that was pretty stupid of me to point out.” 

“Duh, Kurusu.”

“You know…” he said, trailing off slightly as though he were pondering if he should continue. “You can call me Akira. If you want to, of course.”  

She peered at him, taken aback by his sudden show of sincerity and… 

 _Warmth?_  

“Likewise,” she finally replied. “Feel free to call me Ann.” 

He nodded, flashing her an earnest smile before shifting his gaze to the window beside him, resuming his usual class routine of not listening to a word their teachers said. It hadn’t been two minutes since she turned around before she heard Akira call out to her again. 

“Oh and  _Ann_ ,” he said, purposefully emphasising every letter in her name.

 “Yes,  _Akira_?” she answered, mirroring his speech.

 “You’re welcome.”

For the first time in a long time, Ann experienced a warmth that she hadn’t felt since Shiho had so graciously told her that her painting skills sucked - a simple gesture of sorts, that resulted in an undying friendship. She could not help but allow her mind to speculate where this new fervour would lead her, entirely ignorant to the fact that in a few moments, all of her zeal would be ripped away by her best friend’s last desperate attempt to purge herself of her demons. 


	4. Chapter 4

“You’ve pissed me off, you son of a bitch!”

The atmosphere surrounding them grew heavy with strife, sending a chill through Akira’s spine as an outbreak of powerful energy burst from Ann’s captive form. He detected the moment when the pain hit, the all-consuming, excruciating agony that came with waking up the dormant powers that resided within. Her head jerked upward as the surge of power overcame her. Her eyes, once tinted with the colour of turquoise were replaced with a luminous amber hue as Carmen forced her way into Ann’s cognizance, battling against the walls of resistance the girl had erected in her mind.

_My…it’s taken far too long._

Ann gasped in response to the physical torment, her body writhing with ache as she continued to resist the birth of the spirit of rebellion within her. Akira could not help but think of the agony of his own awakening and Ryuji’s cries of torture as Captain Kidd tore through his barriers. His eyes grew wide and he forgot how to breathe, every muscle in his body paralysed by the sight before him. He felt helpless, unable to help his friend cope with the pain because he knew that she needed to overcome this on her own, just as he and Ryuji had before her.

Her fists twisted and curled above her head, banging against the metal cuffs that held her captive in a futile attempt to free herself so that she could at least clutch her head to ease the suffering. The struggle only lasted a few minutes but to Akira it had felt like hours, draining him of all his earlier vigour and bravado. Ann’s cries pierced his ears and rattled his eardrums like a maddening tune that he just wanted to escape. He did not have to wonder what was going through her mind, knowing full well that the catalyst of her transformation was her inability to prevent Shiho Suzui’s suicide attempt and her drive to avenge the person that she most held dear.

A violent convulsion overcame her as the last of her resistances had been eradicated, silencing her howls and causing her entire body to become limp. She hung her head, a thin string of saliva escaping the corner of her mouth as she finally heeded Carmen’s call.

“I hear you…Carmen.”

Upon acknowledging her acceptance, the Persona released a newfound vigour inside of Ann that seeped within her veins and revitalised her broken body. The blonde’s head shot up in defiance, now proudly donning a bright red, latex mask that resembled a feline predator. Ann summoned the newfound strength that had cultivated within her, freeing herself from her binds with one forceful tug of each arm so that she could finally tear off her mask. Without hesitation, she clutched one of the ears and liberated her face, holding her head high as blood gushed from where the mask was once bound to her skin.

The scene was gruesome, but Akira was wholly captivated by the underlying beauty of watching a girl this breathtaking, realise her own strength and fortitude. Her form became engulfed in a bright blue light until she reappeared before them in her complete Phantom Thief garb, a tight, latex body suit that bore the same colour as the blood that cascaded from her face just moments ago, complete with a burgundy tail, heeled knee-high boots and fuchsia coloured gloves. Akira quietly prayed that his own mask was able to disguise the blush that had formed at his cheeks upon noticing that the suit hugged her figure in all of the right places, increasing her already substantial appeal tenfold.

She glared daggers at ‘King’ Kamoshida, cowering as he stood before her cloaked in his garish red robe. Carmen materialised behind her ward, clutching a cigarette in between her plump lips as she dominated over what appeared to be two male creatures dressed in suits with hearts fashioned on their necks instead of heads.

 _Fitting_ , Akira thought to himself as he gazed at Ann’s persona in awe. He almost would have been jealous if Arsene didn’t look just as cool, with his top hat, jet-black wings and menacing face.

Without hesitation, Ann leapt for one of Kamoshida’s guards, kicking the broadsword out of his hand and leaping to catch it before it crashed to the ground. As she came back down, she held the sword over her head, primed to deliver her enemies a crushing blow. Instead of cutting down Kamoshida, she sliced through her cognitive self, ridding the metaverse of Kamoshida’s warped manifestation of his perception of her.

“You know what?” she said coolly, in full view of King Kamoshida's whimpering form. “I’m not some cheap girl you can toy with… you scumbag.”

Her gaze intensified with more hatred when the King callously called her a bitch, irate at her continued show of defiance.

“You stole everything from Shiho! You destroyed her…Now it’s your turn!”

The two boys and Morgana gave each other a resolute nod before dashing forward to provide Ann with their support. They stood behind her in a show of defiance, grinning proudly as she pointed to Kamoshida with her gloved hand.

“I will rob you of everything!”

 

* * *

 

The four Phantom Thieves found themselves severely fatigued by the time that they returned to real world, Ryuji offering to get them some beverages as they awaited their trains inside the humid Aoyama-Itchome Station.

“Which one do ya want?” he asked Ann, holding out the two options in front of her face.

“Um, whichever isn’t carbonated.”

“Uh, they both are actually.”

Ann sighed and reached for the cola, leaving Akira no choice but to take whatever remained.

 _Damn, I wanted that one_ , he cursed to himself inwardly.

Morgana piped up from his duffle, back in his domesticated cat form. “Have you calmed down yet, Lady Ann?”

Ann’s eyes widened in surprise as though she had only just remembered that the cat actually possessed the ability to talk. “Um… Morgana, right? I really am talking to a cat…this feels so strange.”

_That’s putting it mildly._

“Oh! Sorry, you’re not a cat, right?” Ann apologised, correcting herself.

“It’s only natural that you’re confused. Demanding you understand all of this right after what you went through is asking too much," Morgana assured her.

Akira watched as Ann’s eyes grew downcast, obviously recalling the events that had transpired just moments ago. He could sympathise with her confusion, still unable to completely comprehend the reality of the situation, but accepting it anyway out of necessity. Morgana tried his best to explain the logic behind the metaverse and her persona, stating that it was the manifestation of the will of rebellion in her heart. Ann seemed confused but that confusion was instantly eclipsed by the realisation that she could use her new power to destroy Kamoshida.

“He's just going to act like nothing happened, even after what he did to her… I’ll never forgive him,” she spat, staring at her companions with an intensity that Akira had not seen from her before. "Let me help you guys. Let me be apart of whatever you're doing."

Ryuji gaped at her, confused. “Wait…did you just say, ‘let me help’? You mean, you want us to take you along?!”

“Don’t act like I’m going to drag you down! Weren’t you watching? I can fight too!”

Akira snickered. “Easy there, Ryuji. Did you see what she did to her bikini-clad doppelgänger? I would really hate to watch you disintegrate before you actually got the chance to show me where I can find the best ramen in town…”

Ryuji gulped and scratched his head in confusion, shuddering as images of Ann obliterating the hostile shadows flashed in his mind.

“Okay then, smart ass,” he said finally. “What should we do?”

Akira faced Ann, detecting the inferno that blazed inside of her as she met his gaze with a powerful, steely determination. He could tell that she was daring him to refuse, ready to unleash whatever residual anger she had left inside of her in order to plead her case. But Akira had no intention of doing so, already witnessing the full measure of her strength even before she had undergone her awakening. Ann had faced the entire Kamoshida ordeal alone up until now, without even being able to confide in her best friend for support. And when the conflict had come to a head with Shiho flinging herself off the school’s roof, Ann had still refused to cower in fear – blindly following himself and Ryuji into an unknown world in the hopes of avenging the person that she loved the most.

Beauty was not her only strength. She was fierce, independent and loyal to a fault, and Akira was not about to stand in her way.

“She’ll be great,” he told Ryuji, not removing his eyes from hers.

Her head cocked to the side as she stared at him in confusion, clearly not anticipating his instant capitulation to her will. He flashed her a grin, his way of assuring her of his decision. She nodded her head in acknowledgement and returned his smile, not needing to verbalise the mutual understanding that radiated between them.

“Then it’s decided. Well, I hope we get along!” she giggled, turning to Ryuji and winking at him.

He grunted in acknowledgement and slung his arm around her.

“Ugh, fine!” he groaned. “Welcome aboard, Takamaki! Don’t slow us down, got it?”

“Not on your life!” she laughed, tousling Ryuji’s hair before wrestling herself away from his clutches.

Akira swallowed as he watched the two of them. He was happy that his teammates were finally getting a long but an unfamiliar feeling tugged at his insides as he became confronted with the extent of their familiarity. He willed himself to bury it, pushing the ugly sensation back into the farthest realms of his mind as the two blondes continued to playfully spar with one another.

Ann turned back to him, her manner suddenly austere. “Akira, I’m going to make Kamoshida atone for what he did. Not just for Shiho’s sake… but for everything that he has done, including suspending the two of you.”

He nodded his head silently in acknowledgement, happy that he could attribute to her realising her goal.

_I am thou, thou art I…_

The three of them exchanged numbers and chat IDs, concluding that it would be best for them to have a means of instant contact.

“I’ll be counting on you, then. Same goes for you, Morgana,” she told him, smiling as the feline swooned.

“The pleasure is all mine, Lady Ann,” Morgana mewed pleasantly. “You’re such a kind girl! Your consideration for others is so admirable.”

“Forget that!” Ryuji interjected, his eyes glazed with excitement as he scanned the length of her body. “Did you see that outfit? Damn, talk about a showstopper.”

The girl’s cheeks reddened upon hearing their praise, sparing a quick glance in Akira’s direction before he quickly averted his eyes out of embarrassment at the thought of her in her latex suit.

“A-anyway,” she managed, desperate to change subjects. “Where are you guys headed? Maybe we could jump on a train together?”

“I’m going to Yongen,” Akira yawned, clutching his duffel as Morgana twisted in excitement at the prospect of sharing a few more moments with his crush.

“Oh, yay! I live pretty close to there, so I think we’re on the same line!”

“Aww shucks, well I guess this is where I leave you guys,” Ryuji told them, bidding them a farewell with a small wave as he turned and made his way to the platform just across the track from theirs.

Akira, Ann and Morgana got on the next train, the boy and girl immediately finding themselves sandwiched against each other courtesy of the vehicle’s congestion. Akira remained silent for the entirety of the trip, too flustered to speak due to the fact that he was close enough to her to register the heat radiating from her body as it pressed against his. He wondered if he should turn around, or have her face the other way, but his adolescent male imagination could not help but conjure a slew of racy images, each more vivid than the last with every new position he tried to rationalise.

In an effort to appear unabashed and avert his eyes, he caught a brief glimpse of her beet red face, oddly comforted by the fact that he was not the only one affected by the intensity of the situation.

Ann's eyes darted around the carriage, trying to find even the smallest distraction to focus on. "U-uhh, t-this is - "

"Yeah. I know." he said abruptly, finishing her thought.

His nerves began to still when Morgana finally broke the tension, eagerly popping his head out from the bag as he engaged the blonde in an enthusiastic conversation. Akira grimaced when the other commuters eyed his bag suspiciously; clearly irked by the rambunctious cat's meowing and unable to mask their incredulity upon the realisation that he had actually brought a cat onto the train.

“Hey there buddy,” Akira whispered through gritted teeth. “Maybe just ease up on the meowing for now. You’ll be out of diamonds and furs if I get my commuter pass revoked, okay?”

Ann giggled as the train finally halted at their stop, the two pushing their way to the train’s exit.

“I’m pooped, Akira,” yawned Morgana. “I’m gonna head home ahead of you. It’s been a pleasure, Lady Ann.”

The cat mewed affectionately when Ann scratched his chin, his cheek instinctively leaning into her touch. He agilely leapt from Akira's bag and landed on all four paws onto the subway floor. His strut was proud as he sashayed away from them, wholly satisfied by the attention he had just received.

Ann turned her focus back to Akira, peering at him thoughtfully as though she needed to tell him something.

“So…”she said. “What’s your opinion on everything?”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“Well like, what’s your opinion on having me join and stuff?” she reiterated. "Was what you said back there all just for my benefit? So that I didn't look like an idiot in front of Ryuji and Morgana?"

Akira scoffed. "What? Feeling insecure all of a sudden?"

"No it's not like that! I just... I never know with you. I wanna make sure that you meant what you said."

“What more is there to say, Ann? Should I skywrite a proposal in the clouds, begging you to join our ragtag group of thieves? I truly believe you will be a great addition to our team. You should too."

“Wow, that’s probably the most I’ve ever heard you speak in one sentence. You must be serious then.” She swallowed, looking away from him as she absorbed his words.

"Plus..." he added, trying to lighten the atmosphere. "It seems that you've already amassed quite the following. I would hate for Morgana and Ryuji to be deprived of your 'consideration' and 'jaw dropping outfits'."

Ann giggled. "Actually, I believe the words used were 'show stopping' but 'jaw dropping' sounds just as good, so I'll take it".

She playfully lolled her tongue around in her mouth as her rose pink lips curved upward into a smirk. She continued to size him up, hand on her hip whilst the other clutched the strap of her duffle.

“You know…" she continued, her tone demure. "You could learn an thing or two from them."

“Oh and what’s that?”

“Well, they were just soo complimentary and it really made me feel welcome. Shouldn't that be your job though? As our fearless leader, you are the one who should be making all of the new fledglings feel welcome.”

Excitement and wonder coursed through Akira's stomach as he registered her wickedly playful disposition, her eyes dancing around his face as she slyly egged him into returning her gaze. He could not fathom what encouraged this show of friskiness on her part, but he was not opposed to dancing this tango with her and had no intention of ceding to her mischief.

“Wow, Ann Takamaki. I didn’t realise you were the type of girl who got so tickled pink with compliments. Maybe Morgana should be staying at yours instead of mine?”

She laughed. “I actually think that you make a better cat lady than me. And compliments never hurt. When they are welcome, of course.”

“Are they?”

Her expression shifted as he continued to stare her down, appearing more contemplative then she had been mere seconds ago. He had phrased the question as casually as he could, trying to fight the nagging voice in the back of his mind, telling him that he had some kind of personal stake in her answer. He had always been so adept at reading social cues and predicting behaviours, always ready and willing to adapt his personality to ready himself for any situation. This ability had aided him in quickly establishing a deep camaraderie with Ryuji and Morgana, and shielded him from ever feeling disheartened by the slurs and insults his classmates threw at him. But with Ann, it was different. She was sincere enough in the way that she carried herself but for some reason, Akira always had a hard time pre-empting her behaviour and fundamentally, he just wanted her to be comfortable around him

_Ugh, why can’t I ever just stop analysing everything…_

She interrupted his reflections and drew him back into the present when she finally spoke.

“Of course their compliments were welcome!” she smirked. “What kinda girl would I be if I didn’t relish in a little bit of well-meaning flattery every now and then.”

He nodded, stepping in closer with his hands in his pockets. “Fair enough. Well in that case… I like your tail.”

Her cheeks reddened, suddenly bashful at the memory of her metaverse attire. “Yeah well… It’s got nothing on that coat of yours.”

“I like the cat ears too, and the zippers were a nice touch. I'm a _big_ fan.”

“Oh?” she winked. “Then are you also a _big_ fan of me?”

The blood drained from Akira’s face, her question rendering him utterly speechless. He stared at her, mouth agape as he expected her to interject. Instead she continued to eye him, her expression blank, unreadable and offering him nothing to contend with.

“W-what, I-I –“

“Just kidding!”

The quiet atmosphere of Yongen-Jaya Station became peppered with her hysteric laughter. She doubled over, clutching her sides in unbridled amusement, as he stood there completely dumbfounded.

“Oh my god! What’s with that face!?” she teased, finger pointed directly at him. “I thought you were cooler than that, Akira. Turns out, you’re no better than Ryuji!”

_What an evil shrew!_

After a few more painful minutes, her laughter began to finally subside and she sighed. “I’m sorry, Joker! I just wanted to see if I could trip _you_ up for once! I’m gonna go home before you have time to exact your vengeance on me. I’ll catch ya later!”

His feet remained firmly planted in his position, watching her pigtails bounce with glee as she sauntered away from him.

_Mission accomplished, Takamaki._

 

* * *

 

With their infiltration route set and the calling card in full effect, the Phantom Thieves journeyed to the castle’s innermost sanctum to relieve Kamoshida of his most prized treasure. Ann kept her eyes glued to Joker’s back as he lead them seamlessly through the long, winding halls of the castle’s interior, not an ounce of hesitation inherent in any of his actions. When he embodied the persona of the Phantom Thief, Joker - Akira was truly in his element, his boyish appearance and modest mannerisms were completely eclipsed by Joker’s devilish charm and irresistible confidence. Watching him operate inside of the metaverse exhilarated and motivated her all at the same time, fuelling her desire to match his capabilities and give all that she could to this band of thieves.

They ascended the last flight of stairs to the Throne Room, Ann wincing at the sculpture of a sexualised female body sporting a Shujin Academy volleyball uniform. Everything that she had been confronted with in this castle shook her to her core and contributed to the rage that had been festering inside of her the moment that she stepped inside. From having to watch the cognitive version of herself flounce around in a pink, leopard-print bikini to stumbling upon Kamoshida’s perverted shrine to Shiho, Ann would finally be able to confront the volleyball coach without any doubt in her mind that he deserved everything that he was about to get.

_He violated Shiho in the worst way possible… Now it’s my turn to return the favour._

They rounded a corner and saw the gleam of a treasure chest up ahead, fastened shut with a large padlock.

“Yo, Joker! There’s a treasure chest over there!” Ryuji squealed in delight, pointing to the chest directly within their sight line.

Akira shared a look with Ann, shaking his head as she giggled.

“What an _excellent_ observation, Ryuji,” he said jokingly, giving his friend a good-natured pat on the back.

The boy in black moved forward and in one slick motion, he retrieved a lock pick from the inside of his sleeve. Unable to contain her excitement at the prospect of treasure, Ann stepped forward and took her place beside him.

“This is gonna be good,” she said, clasping her hands together in delight.

  
She caught a glimpse of his eyes behind the mask, as wild and intense as storm clouds. Her stomach fluttered when he flashed her his trademark cocksure grin before tending to the sturdy lock, exhibiting that this was truly his domain. When Akira was finally able to pry the chest open, their heads lurched forward in unison, enthusiastic to see it’s contents. Her eyes gleamed with excitement as she peered at the multi-coloured gems inside, bewitching as they sparkled in the dim lighting of the castle's corridor.

"Wow, would you look at these beauties, Joker!" She said excitedly, looking up to see if he shared in her enthusiasm. When her head jolted upward, she was confronted by the how close his face was to hers, close enough that she detected the faint scent of coffee and soap emanating from him.

"Boundaries, Panther. Boundaries," he joked, causing her to retreat backwards as fast as she could.

"C-come on! I was just excited, I mean they're so pretty!"

He gathered the gems, holding a Swiss Blue topaz inches away from his face.

"They sure are," he said dreamily, placing the gems inside of a pouch at his belt. "These will fetch us a pretty penny. Whaddaya say, Ryuji? How about a shiny new bludgeon to go with your spiffy mask?"

Ryuji laughed, giving his friend an enthusiastic wink and thumbs up. “Thanks man, I know you got my back!”

The Phantom Thieves resumed their charge forward, bursting through the towering double doors as they readied their weapons to face any resistance that awaited them inside. Morgana gasped when they stepped into an empty room, completely bereft of the King and his royal guards.

“This place is probably undermanned now that every other guard has been assigned elsewhere,” Morgana pondered. “Either way, we win as long as we can steal the treasure! So let’s keep going!”

The cat leapt forward, charging to the room containing the treasure with his partners following in suit. A crown bearing a striking resemblance to the ones traditionally worn by English royalty had materialised in place of the clouded mass that had been there instead on their last visit. Ann marvelled at the cat upon realising that all of his teachings, about the metaverse, cognition and the calling cards, had all come into fruition. Morgana had not lead them astray but she could not help but wonder how he had even amassed all of this knowledge in the first place. She shook the thoughts from her mind, concluding that they had more immediate concerns to attend to.

Akira, Ryuji and Ann hoisted the crown off its pedestal with Morgana acting as their guide as they manoeuvred the hulking treasure around the throne room. They inched closer and closer to the door, their victory and freedom only a few metres away when a familiar voice bellowed all throughout the once silent room.

“Go, go! Let’s go! Ka-mo-shida!”

Ann would recognise that voice anywhere. How could she not? It was hers after all, only a few decibels higher than her normal tone. A volleyball soared through the air and straight into the crown, knocking the treasure squarely out of their grasp. Ann shared a gasp with her fellow thieves when she spied Kamoshida propelling himself forward, executing a perfect somersault and landing smugly in front of his throne, his confident stance telling of his determination to reclaim his treasure. He held his hand out indifferently as the crown flew back into his clutches, Ann’s cognitive counterpart flinging her arms around the king in glee.

Ann tried to suppress her gag reflex as she spied the airheaded girl who shared her features run her finger up and down the length of Kamoshida’s chest whilst staring at him luridly. It shouldn’t have surprised her to see that this was how Kamoshida perceived her, as an imbecilic bimbo whose only value stemmed from her physical attributes. After all, it was the label she had been fighting against since she entered middle school. But her lack of genuine surprise did not work to distil her feelings of outrage and repulsion as she watched herself become reduced to some cheap floozy.

Ann eyed her doppelganger with contempt. “That rat bastard… That’s how he sees me, isn’t it!?”

“Yo, pervert,” Ryuji interjected. “Were you waitin’ to ambush us?”

“I’ll dispose of you myself. Right here, right now.”

“That’s our line, you sexually harassin’ D-bag!”

Countless jibes were thrown between Ryuji and Kamoshida, with Akira standing by each of his friends in silence, waiting patiently for their inevitable battle to begin. It didn’t matter what her or Ryuji said, Kamoshida was always armed with a justification for his actions. Every second that he spoke and revealed the depths of his depravity, it was all the justification that Ann needed to know that what she was going to do was necessary. If they didn’t force a change in Kamoshida themselves, he was too far gone to affect it on his own and all that they had accomplished up to this point would amount to nothing – there was no turning back now.

“The people around me were the ones who kept everything secret,” he revealed to them smugly. “Adults who want to share in my accomplishments, students who have the drive to become winners… they willingly protect me so that we all may profit from it.”

Kamoshida scowled at them in annoyance, the full extent of his anger slowly bubbling to the surface with each syllable that he uttered.

“There are too many imbeciles who don’t understand that! Including naïve brats like you and that girl who tried to kill herself!”

Ann shook with rage.

_Hasn’t he done enough to Shiho… does he really need to tarnish her name any further?_

It was in that moment that she had suddenly been overcome by an ephiphany, akin to the way in which a lightening bolt is instantly drawn to a conductor. A name and reputation can only be tarnished if that person genuinely cared about the opinion of the one wishing to taint it. By all accounts, she was sure that her and Shiho found Kamoshida to be a reprehensible example of all that humanity had to offer. So why were stupid enough to allow somebody they had only ever held in contempt, exert control over how they lived their lives or how they were perceived? Kamoshida was only allowed to exert his dominance over them because they allowed him to do it, because they felt too weak to put a stop to in on their own

 _Well not anymore…_ Ann thought to herself resolutely. _No fucking way!_

“True…She is a total idiot for letting you manipulate her into trying to commit suicide,” she retorted calmly. “And I’m even more a dumbass for not realizing that...!”

Ann positioned herself in her fighting stance, showing Kamoshida and her fellow Phantom Thieves the full measure of her sincerity.

“But no matter what kind of fool someone might be… They don’t need your permission to live their lives!”

Kamoshida began to chuckle insidiously, his large frame convulsing, as his laughs grew more audible and unnerving. He grabbed cognitive Ann, holding her tightly against him as they became consumed in a crimson burst of energy. Ann watched in horror as the volleyball coach began his transformation, grotesque limbs started to burst from his once human form with the rest of his features distorting into something that could not be described as anything other than monstrous. Ann’s knees began to shake uncontrollably when Shadow Kamoshida towered above them, the monster extending its heinous silver tongue out from it’s gruesome mouth, revealing that it was long enough to touch them. Kamoshida now finally resembled the abhorrent creature he always had been inside and she could not even begin to comprehend how they would take a monster of this magnitude down.

The ensuing battle was long and perilous, with Shadow Kamoshida taking advantage of every single edge that he possessed over them. Even with Joker’s ability to posses multiple personas, their defeat seemed inevitable and all of the hope and momentum that they had accrued before the confrontation was close to becoming a nonentity. It did not matter what kind of physical or magical damage was inflicted upon the monster, Shadow Kamoshida was always one step ahead of them, healing himself with the golden chalice at his feet by feeding upon the detached legs inside. The sound of their bones crunching in his mouth was enough to strike fear in Ann, but she steeled herself as best as she could, not ready to give up yet.

“He healed himself? Is it because he ate those … ‘things’ inside there?” Morgana rationalised, his tone conveying the state of panic the cat was currently in.

Joker summoned Berith and launched a full physical assault against the chalice. His face broke into a wide grin when he realised that the object could take damage. He beckoned Ryuji to summon Captain Kidd and follow in suit, and the two boys began pommelling the chalice with every physical attack they had in their arsenal. All four of Shadow Kamoshida’s arms flailed violently in anger upon realising their shift in strategy.

He gasped. “Hey! You don’t know what this is worth, so stop touching it! I’ve warned you, peasants. Don’t do it anymore, got it!?”

Joker released an almost maniacal laugh at Kamoshida’s attempt to deter them. He clicked his fingers with ease as he called back Berith and summoned Eligor in his place, the monstrous knight shrouded in blood red armour was almost double Berith’s size. Eligor charged forward at Joker’s behest, his lance connecting with chalice in one devastating final blow. The golden cup toppled over and shattered into hundreds of tiny shards, sending the vile shadow into a frenzy of rage.

“No fucking way!” he spat. “That was from when I won nationals, you brats!”

Morgana mewed in glee when Joker beckoned them to surround the Shadow, Ann overflowed with satisfaction as she brought her tommy gun directly into Kamoshida’s face.

Kamoshida glared at them, his monstrous eyes brimming with incredulity at their disobedience.

“You think you can get away with doing this shit? Do you realise who I am?!” he yelled. “I am Kamoshida! Don’t you get it!?”

Joker shook his head, still smiling at the demon defiantly.

“So what?” he said calmly. “Is that supposed to deter us? Do you honestly think we actually give even the tiniest fuck about you? You are nothing.”

He looked to his teammates for affirmation and they nodded their support at his words.

“Just give up the treasure already, Kamoshida. You’ve lost,” Ann taunted him, smirking at him as she aimed the barrel of her gun squarely between the shadow’s eyes.

The Phantom Thieves engaged in an all out attack, pommelling the beast with every thing that they had. The assault weakened Kamoshida substantially, but their efforts were not enough to separate the monster from his crown. Morgana instructed Joker to send one of them to lift the crown whilst he remained distracted by their onslaught. The cat sheathed his cutlass, primed to undertake the task himself on Akira’s command. Ann could not help but spare a glance in the boy’s direction. Truth be told, she wanted to be the one to rob Kamoshida of his treasure. It would be the ultimate vengeance she could exact on Shiho’s behalf, but she was also the team’s newest and least experienced member. Her skills weren’t nearly as polished as the boys’ and it would be foolish for her to think that Akira would give her that right as a novice, when the entire success of their plan hinged on this strategy.

Akira peered at Morgana thoughtfully and raised his hand.

“You don’t need to keep trying to prove your skills, Morgana,” he assured the feline. “Just focus on trying to blow this pervert away with Garu and make sure to heal us at every opportunity you get.”

He turned to Ann after addressing the cat, placing a hand on her shoulder as he gave her a serious look. Akira nodded at Kamoshida’s distorted form and brought his attentions back to her.

“Maybe you should show him that you aren’t just a pretty face, huh?” he said calmly, his lips fastened into an all-knowing smirk.

“W-wait!” she stammered. “Are you serious?”

“As a heart attack.”

She stared at him in complete disbelief, waiting for him to laugh or do anything that would indicate his words were said in jest.

 _Maybe he’s just trying to get back at me for messing with him the other day?_ She reasoned with herself, confident that her companion was in no way serious.

But all that he could offer her was the same unshakable gaze he had given her back at the diner. The same stare that bore a hole through her every time that she came across it. It saw past the hair, the nails, the legs, the chest and the lips – eradicating every one of her blockades and leaving her feeling vulnerable and naked under the intensity of its hold. It was the same look that beckoned her to release all of her inhibitions and realise her true strength.

She did not need anymore affirmation to know that Akira was ‘as serious as a heart attack’. And as she give him a determined nod, she steeled every nerve and muscle in her body so that she was able to give Kamoshida that very same look.

The look that said she would not settle for anything less than success.

 

* * *

 

The battle had been decided and the Phantom Thieves had secured their very first real triumph. Prideful till the end, Kamoshida refused to relinquish his treasure, clutching the crown against his weakened form and attempting to escape with the treasure in hand. It did not take him long to gasp in defeat upon realising that all of his escape attempts were futile.

“Scared?” Joker heard Ann say calmly, the girl inching closer and closer to where the disgraced king stood. “Right now, you’re seeing the same view that Shiho did.”

“I’m sure she was scared too, except she had no choice but to jump…What will you do? Will you jump? Or would you rather die here?”

Ann’s voice remained eerily placid, betraying no signs of her lethal intent. But Joker could sense it bubbling under the surface, like a dormant volcano waiting for lava to accumulate before it erupts into an explosion of red. He could feel the hairs on his arms stand on end as her aura grew more powerful and suffocating, sending another cold chill up his spine. She continued to edge closer and closer to Kamoshida’s cowering form, fists clenched and body trembling with fury. Joker ought to have stopped her but he didn’t know how. The Ann that he knew ceased to exist in this moment, her entire identity was engulfed by the indignation and hatred that she had concealed for so long, and he did not know how to talk this Ann off the ledge, or even if he should.

Without warning, Carmen appeared behind her, ready to incinerate Kamoshida to ash with the flames blazing at each of the persona’s fingertips. Kamoshida’s once proud eyes exhibited nothing but terror, as he sensed the painful death he was inches away from.

Morgana narrowed his eyes at Ann, his expression taciturn as he spoke. “Do you want to finish him off? It’s your call.”

Joker wanted to interject, to assuage the wrath in Ann’s eyes. Death was not the answer, it would not grant her the retribution she sought, and he did not want the girl who was always brimming with vibrancy and life to become an empty shell of what she once was. But this was not his battle, Kamoshida was not his enemy, and he needed to learn how to trust the people that had so readily placed their trust in him.

Ann ignored Morgana’s question, entirely focused on her adversary. Kamoshida’s pleas for his life fell on deaf ears as she continued her menacing advance toward him.

“N-no please wait! I beg you…just forgive me!” he cried desperately, his voice breaking as though he were about to weep.

“Shut up,” she replied, her tone laced in acid. “I bet everyone told you the same. But you…you took everything from them!”

Carmen released an errant blast of fire in Kamoshida’s direction, causing the coach to duck in a futile attempt to avoid the blaze.

He dropped to his knees in front her, offering her the crown. “I accept defeat… you want this? Take it.”

He launched the treasure from his hand and it flew in a perfect trajectory, right into Akira’s hand. He clutched the crown, hoping that Ann would back off when she saw that victory was finally theirs. Instead, the girl displayed no signs of relenting, Carmen primed and ready to launch a second fireball at her will. Kamoshida saw the determination in her eyes and knowing that his death was inevitable, he bowed his head in disgrace.

“Go ahead and finish me off… you do that, and my real self will go down too.”

He heard Ryuji grunt in hesitation, emulating Joker’s sentiments. Ann trembled as she raised her hand, faltering before she ultimately decided to unleash the inferno upon her target.

“Ann!” Ryuji cried, the two boys gasping in disbelief as the flames soared straight in Kamoshida’s direction.

The coach lowered his head, ready to succumb to the blaze. The fire flew straight past him, missing his ear by a hair and singeing the curtains fluttering from the balcony behind him, reducing them to a pile of ash. Akira felt his heart clench when he saw the red panther’s mask materialise back onto Ann’s face, signifying that she had called for Carmen’s retreat.

“If his mind shuts down, he can’t admit his crimes,” she deduced, staring directly at Kamoshida with her back to her companions.

Tears streamed from her enemy’s eyes, staining his cheeks and reducing him to whimpering wreck.

“I’ve lost…you’re through when you lose” he admitted solemnly. “What am I – What am I supposed to do now…?”

Akira watched as Ann’s shoulders heaved up and down, her breathing ragged as she tried to distil the adrenaline raging inside of her. He felt his legs push forward on their own until he stood just inches from her trembling frame. He was not sure what propelled him forward, but he knew that he wanted to be close to her. He placed his hand on her shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze, watching her flinch at the surprise contact.

“Figure it out yourself,” he told Kamoshida, refusing to offer the disgraced coach anymore of his energy, as he and the rest of the Phantom Thieves watched the king finally disappear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't think i'm terribly talented at writing action sequences so i'm going to keep those to a minimum for this fic. But ultimately, I felt that the Kamoshida fight was pretty pivotal to establishing Ann's character so I decided to elaborate on it more than I probably will for the other bosses (except for maybe the final 3?). 
> 
> Anyway I hope it wasn't too vexting to read :p!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just wanted to say thank you to everyone that has left a comment, kudos or even just viewed this story. It is very much appreciated :)

**Chapter 5**

Ann paced around her room, freshly showered and phone in hand. The fatigue started to set in when she eyed her queen-sized bed, making the steps between her en suite bathroom and its sanctuary, all the more onerous. She allowed her knees to hit the edge of the mattress, groaning as she fell forward into the soft linen. She closed her eyes, immediately confronted by the events of the battle as they replayed in her mind. Their assault on Shadow Kamoshida had occurred hours ago, but her memories of the battle had come to her so vividly that she felt like she was still in the thick of it. Something about finally having the power to exert dominance over Kamoshida had caused her to snap and instantly, she became entirely consumed in a sensation that she was unfamiliar with. Her rage had bubbled over like a kettle reaching its boiling point, encouraging her to be ruthless and capitulate to her bloodlust. She had been more than ready to take Kamoshida’s life and that truth had been haunting her ever since.

She forced her eyes back open, trying to silence the reflections that only seemed to permeate in her brain when everything was dark. She needed a distraction, something to put her mind at ease so that it could succumb to the respite that she deserved. She missed her parents and yearned to hear their voices in a fast-paced discussion about appropriate hemlines and fabric quality. But she knew that they were oceans away from her, leaving her with no means of comfort other than the thick, suffocating silence of their double story apartment. The quiet seeped into her skin like poison, begging to be filled with any kind of noise. She propped herself up on her elbows, holding her phone out in front of her. Her finger hesitated as it hovered over the ‘Messages’ icon. She knew whom she intended to message, but could not help but wonder if the constant contact could be perceived as excessive.

Brushing the thought from her mind, she clicked on the icon and composed a quick greeting to her intended recipient.

**Ann: Hey…**

**…**

Ann winced as the three little dots taunted her, the anticipation of receiving a response had affected her more than she had desired.

**Akira: Hey.**

Ann eyed her phone, confused. She had been waiting in silence for him to finally send his response for several minutes. Given the lengthy delay, she half expected an epic poem or research thesis to appear on her screen instead of a simple ‘hey’.

**Ann: I just wanted to say, thanks. I finally got to avenge Shiho because of you guys…**

**Ann: I’m pretty sure there was no way I’d have been able to do anything on my own.**

**Ann: So seriously, thank you. I owe you so much.**

**…**

“You better not leave me hanging, you asshole,” she grunted to herself, shifting her weight onto her elbow as she lay on her side

**Akira: Why are you thanking me?**

Ann blinked at the screen, so perplexed by his message that she inadvertently started to taunt him with the three dots as she typed, deleted and re-typed all of the thoughts that came flooding into her mind. No matter which way her brain had dissected the exchange, she could not envision any instance where she would have expected that response from him.

_Does he seriously not understand how much he’s helped me?_

**Ann: Are you serious?**

**Akira: ?**

**Ann: I don’t even know what 2 say… u definitely helped me! Just accept my thanks already! {( >_<)}**

**Akira: Helped you with what?**

**Ann: Kamoshida…**

**Akira: That was all you.**

**Akira: No need to thank me.**

**Ann: Yeah but…you let me join the Phantom Thieves and stuff…**

**Akira: Would you have let me stop you otherwise?**

**Ann: No.**

**Akira: Exactly, all you.**

**Ann: Uh ok**

**Ann: Why can’t you ever just accept a thank you like a normal person?**

**Akira: Because I’m humble.**

She immediately felt her eyes roll at his pronouncement.

**…**

**Ann: Yeah… I probably would’ve been more inclined to believe you if you hadn’t actually said that**

**Akira: Hey**

**Akira: Are you okay?**

She sighed in contentment. The concern that he expressed over wellbeing by those three simple words brought her an immeasurable comfort, akin to what she felt whilst in the presence of Shiho and her parents. She couldn’t fathom why she was always so receptive to every gesture that he offered her, especially perplexed by the fact that she felt this way even after only having knowing him for such a limited amount of time. She couldn’t understand it or piece it together logically enough for her brain to define, but connections like this were hard for her to come by, so she welcomed it wholeheartedly.

**Ann: I am**

**Ann: Now (^.^)**

 

* * *

 

The last rays of the afternoon sun streamed into the hospital room and bathed every inch of the small, desolate space in a soft orange glow. Shiho sat upright in her bed, staring aimlessly outside of the window and entirely transfixed by her thoughts. The sunlight cast a shadow over her features, leaving Ann with a view of her silhouette against the backdrop of the resplendent afternoon. The hospital gown hung loosely over her thin frame, drooping off her left shoulder blade and exposing the volleyball starter’s prominent collarbone. No sound could be heard save for the drip of the IV next to her bed.

Shiho held a pensive gaze as her eyes traversed the scenery outside of her window. Ann almost did not want to interrupt her reflections and she deliberated on leaving before she managed to capture her best friend’s notice. But ultimately, she did not want Shiho to think that she had flaked out on her third scheduled visit since the brunette regained consciousness and truth be told, she could think of little else today but finally getting another chance to see Shiho, so that she could make up for her last two visits.

Her first visit consisted of Ann sobbing for the entirety of their reunion, unable to contain her emotions at seeing her friend finally regain the ability to communicate lucidly. Try as she might, Ann had found that she could not control the torrent of tears that streamed out of her eyes, offering Shiho nothing more than a slew of choked sobs as she wept by her best friend’s hospital bed. Her second visit with Shiho was more awkward and uncomfortable, with Ann walking on eggshells in fear that she would aggravate Shiho’s condition. They shared a string of courteous pleasantries until the nurse appeared at Shiho’s doorway to politely inform Ann that visiting hours were over. It was then that Shiho broke the news that she would be changing schools, and Ann offered her a mere nod in assent, despite all of the emotions that swirled inside of her. Later that night, she cried herself to sleep, finally unleashing the depths of her despair at hearing the news.

Ordinarily, the girls were able to communicate effortlessly and had the quintessential ‘best friends’ relationship. But their conversations seemed almost strained as of late, with each of their tones laced with an underlying sense of poignancy every time that they spoke with one another. Now, Ann was more determined than ever to ensure that this visit did not meet the same fate.

Hesitantly, she brought her fist up to the doorframe, knocking softly against the off-white drywall before making her way inside. Shiho awoke from her trance, turning her head so that she could acknowledge her visitor. The brunette smiled warmly at Ann as she made her way to her friend’s bedside, trying not to stare too much at the prominent bruising on Shiho’s face. She unloaded her bag onto a nearby chair and moved to hug her friend. Every time that she wrapped her arms around Shiho, she could not help but notice just how frail the girl felt in her grasp. She tried not to squeeze her too tightly, despite every urge in her body wanting to wrap her best friend in a sweeping bear hug.

When they parted, they exchanged affectionate smiles before Ann took her place at the end of Shiho’s bed.

“Ann! It’s so good to see you!” Shiho beamed, shuffling her feet to make room.

“Hey, come on! You don’t need to do that…” Ann replied, not wanting to trouble her friend further. “Anyway, it’s so good to see you too! How are you feeling?”

“Pretty much the same as the last time you asked.”

“So… still pretty shit, huh?” Ann concluded, hanging her head. “God Shiho, I wish there was something I could do. I-I hate seeing you like this.”

Shiho tried to muster a laugh, but the strain in her voice was evident enough for Ann to question its authenticity. “Are you kidding me, Ann? Just having you visit is enough… I love my parents and the doctors and nurses are kind, but seeing you here is a much welcome change of pace from all that.”

“Thank god, I was starting to think I was bugging you.”

“Never!”

Ann giggled. “Good, cause you know that wouldn’t have stopped me anyway.”

Shiho moved forward, propping her face up with her hands as she leant her elbows on each of her knees.

“So,” she said. “Let’s talk about something perfectly normal. How was class today?”

“Class was…well…it was okay. As good as it can get, ya know?”

“Hmm, don’t tell me you spaced out again?”

Ann groaned. “Oh please, as if you could maintain one hundred precent focus during a Mr. Ushimaru lecture…no wonder he has to result to physical violence to hold our attentions.”

“Oh my god,” Shiho giggled. “Please don’t tell me he is still flinging markers at people! Tsukishima in my class got it right in between the eyes a few times.”

“Well his new favourite victim in our class is Akira.”

Shiho immediately perked up at the mention of the transfer student’s name, an impish smile spreading across her face.

“Oh? And how was Akira today, huh?”

Ann leant back into hospital bed, stretching her legs out underneath her so that she could admire her newly purchased tan leather boots.

“He’s okay, I guess?” Ann replied, eyes trailing the cracks on the ceiling. “He’s kinda a weird guy, but we’ve been getting along recently.”

“That doesn’t surprise me.”

Ann looked at her best friend, wide-eyed. “Huh? What makes you say that?”

“You’ve always had a thing for damaged outcasts,” Shiho winked, laughing as Ann playfully poked her in the ribs, taking extra care not to harm her.  

“Oh shut up, Shiho! Don’t forget that you owe me.”

“What for?!”

Ann grinned triumphantly. “Because I never told anyone about your terrifying obsession with that red Neo Featherman guy!”

Shiho’s eyes bulged in shock as a blush crept to her cheeks. “You said you would never bring that up again!”

“Remember that poster behind your door? I can bring it here for you if you like…you must be _soo_ lonely after all.”

“Ann Takamaki, you are the Devil!”

Their laugher resounded throughout the once silent room, eradicating any remnants of the awkwardness and tension that remained from the last visit. Ann recounted her days to Shiho, careful not to reveal any details regarding her exploits in the metaverse. She told her all about reconnecting with Ryuji and her newfound friendship with Akira, with Shiho constantly probing her for more details. The girl hung on every word that came out of Ann’s mouth and she found it peculiar that her friend had taken such an acute interest in even the most miniscule details of her life. But if this was what Shiho wanted to hear, then Ann was more than happy to oblige.

“So how is Sakamoto anyway?” Shiho asked, gnawing at her fingernails.

“Still haven’t stopped that habit have we?”

“Can’t stop, won’t stop.”

Ann giggled. “Well, I suppose it’s not hurting anyone. Anyway, Ryuji seems to be doing alright. He and Akira have gotten really close too, so I’m happy to see him making friends again after that whole mess with the track team.”

“Yeah, totally,” Shiho nodded. “Has he paid you back yet? You know, for the money he borrowed in eighth grade?”

“Not yet, but don’t worry. I’ll be collecting very soon! And when I do, I’m gonna splurge on some crepes for the next time I visit.”

“Ooo I can’t wait! Crepes always taste better when they’ve been bought with extorted funds,” Shiho giggled. “So tell me more about Akira. You know, I actually managed to have a conversation with him before all this happened.”

Ann’s eyes grew wide as she stared at Shiho attentively, completely ignorant of the fact that her best friend and Akira had actually conversed before.

“Really?!”

“Yeah! He’s a little quiet and a bit weird, but he seemed like a good guy.”

“Yeah… he is kinda peculiar. The other day I messaged him to say thank you for helping me with this uhh…project. And instead of saying ‘you're welcome’ like a normal person, he totally threw it right back in my face.”

“What?!” Shiho gaped. “That’s really strange!”

“Right?!”

“Wait…what kind of ‘project’ was he helping you with?” Shiho asked, eyeing Ann with suspicion.

“It was a project for school.”

“Oh, so he’s smart?”

Ann nodded. “Yeah, really smart actually. The other day the teacher asked him what a soul was comprised of and he knew the answer straight away. Like it was just general knowledge floating around in his head! And he doesn’t even pay attention in class, so I just don’t get it.”

“Do _you_ even pay attention in class?!" Shiho snickered. “Cause it sounds like you’ve only been paying attention to him!”

Ann pouted at her friend’s insinuation. “It wasn’t just me who noticed, Shiho. Everybody did!”

“Sure.”

“Shiho!”

“Okay!” The brunette relented. “Okay, I’m sorry! But anyway, why does him not acknowledging your gratitude bother you so much? Knowing you, you’d just thank him anyway and shrug it off?”

“Yeah but…it's weird right?”

“Yeah it is. But in the grand scheme of things, it’s not a big deal. As long as _you_ acknowledge how much he helped you and how thankful you are for it, his response doesn’t really matter, does it?”

Ann sighed. She could not believe that her best friend was in the hospital recovering from her suicide attempt and here she was boring her with mundane musings about the strangest guy to ever grace Shujin Academy’s halls. Shiho was about to start physical therapy and she did not need to know about every single one of her petty concerns.

“God…I am so sorry, Shiho. I didn’t mean to bore you with all of this stupid stuff. I mean, compared to what you’re going through – “

“Ann, are you kidding me!?” Shiho interrupted, her eyes wide with surprise as she gaped at her best friend. “I love talking about this stuff! For a moment, I just forgot about …everything and felt _normal_ again. Please, don’t ever apologise for giving me that.”

Ann’s eyes started to sting at Shiho’s proclamation. It’s true, their tedious conversation even caused Ann to forget about all of the issues that plagued them. For a brief moment, everything was pleasantly normal, almost like they were back at their usual bench in Inokashira Park, talking about a cute new idol or vowing to try the new dessert place that opened up.

Ann stared at Shiho wistfully, taking the brunette’s hand in hers. “What am I going to do without you? I can’t imagine not seeing you everyday at school.”

Giving her hand a reassuring squeeze, Shiho shifted her focus back to the window, staring outside with an unmistakable look of contentment.

“Actually, Ann… it sounds like you’ll be just fine.”

 

* * *

 

Akira scanned the busy restaurant, seeing that it was teeming with patrons absorbed in their idle chatter. Snippets of their conversations could be heard as their hostess lead he and Ryuji to their seats. To his right sat a group of girls, entirely engrossed in their dissection of someone named Hayashi’s new haircut. A lone diner sat to his left, absentmindedly stirring the contents of his bowl whilst scanning the pages of an open textbook. Akira was enveloped with noise, a phenomenon he had yet to grow accustomed to having spent years residing in his quiet hometown.

The hostess stopped when she reached two vacant stools tucked into the counter and in full view of chefs who were so absorbed in their craft that they were unable to spare even a modicum of attention to the commotion surrounding them. The boys thanked the hostess as she held her hand out to their seats. Akira reached for a menu, excited to sample one of the delicious dishes he had spied on his way inside but was immediately stopped by Ryuji.

“Tut tut,” Ryuji beamed. “Leave this to the experts. Yo Chef! We’ll take two house specials, please.”

The chef grunted in acknowledgement, his back still turned to the boys. He reached for a large steel bowl to his left, pouring the noodles inside into a large pot of boiling water. When they were finally greeted by the sight of their meal, Akira could scarcely contain his elation. The aroma of the broth wafted to his nostrils, tickling his senses as his mouth began to salivate.

“Thish ish totally the besht right!?” Ryuji exclaimed in between mouthfuls of ramen. Beads of sweat began to form at his temples, a product of his eagerness to devour the dish while it was steaming hot.

Akira smiled down at his broth, amused by his friend’s antics. “Yeah yeah you were right, Almighty Ramen Connoisseur Sakamoto.”

He brought his spoon up to his lips, allowing the soup to slither down his throat. He marvelled silently at the subtle yet overpowering flavour of the broth, the mixture of condiments used by the chef had complimented each other pristinely and produced a taste unlike any other. Admittedly, he had always thought Ryuji to be partial to hyperbole. So when the faux blonde waxed enthusiastic about quality of the ramen shop for their entire journey here, Akira had taken in all of his praise with a grain of salt, assuming that his friend was merely exaggerating the ramen’s taste. But he was not one to deny credit where credit was due, and he would gladly acknowledge his friend’s correctness in singing his praises for this ramen.

They demolished their bowls within a matter of minutes, Akira’s stomach already rumbling for more upon devouring the last spoonful of soup.

Ryuji sat back in his stool, crossing his legs as he beamed in satisfaction. “Ahhh! I love the feelin’ of noodles slidin’ down my throat! Sweat droppin’ over my face!”

“Shhh, Ryuji… it’s unseemly to talk dirty in public,” Akira whispered in jest, dabbing the sweat on his forehead with his napkin.

Ryuji cackled, poking Akira in the arm with his chopsticks. “Seriously though man, this shit’s the best! Ramen is life. Light soup like this really gets your body goin’ again after a good run, y’know.”

“We used to come all the way here after practice,” he continued. “Uh, I guess that’s all in the past now.”

Ryuji’s voice cracked almost imperceptibly when he uttered the word ‘past’. His ordinarily jovial features shifted and the melancholy in his stare immediately became evident. Ryuji’s memories of the running team were sharp, cutting him deeply whenever they invaded his thoughts. Running had been everything to Ryuji, his sole accomplishment against the backdrop of years of being told he was a failure. His talents had afforded him the opportunity to prove all of the naysayers in his life wrong. But just as quickly as the glories came, they were ripped away from him in manner that was not only emotionally traumatic, but also physically damaging. Ryuji still hadn’t lost the limp Kamoshida had inflicted on him and he wore it with shame, as a reminder to all of his ex-teammates that he had cost them their only outlet to showcase their talents. But Akira saw it as more of a remembrance that Ryuji was just another talented student, victimised by a teacher who would grasp at anything to recapture his glory days.

Perhaps it was his own unjust branding as a miscreant that attracted Akira to the boy's plight. Their friendship had materialised so naturally and in a way that Akira had never experienced before. Their personalities could not have been more different but they mirrored each other's convictions and their mutual desire to prosecute unjust adults had ultimately drawn them together.   
  
"I-It's okay, man..." Akira stuttered, offering Ryuji a stiff pat on the back in consolation.  
  
Ryuji laughed, shaking his head. "You're kinda shit at this whole ‘comforting’ thing aren't you?”

“Well you’re kinda shit at this whole ‘being discreet thing’, so I guess we’re even.”

“Ouch! Right in the nuts! Thanks for that, Akira!” Ryuji chuckled.

“Anytime, bud.”

They chugged the rest of their water, the conversation reverting back to the track team and it’s former members.

“You know…I’ve seen Nakaoka around a few times,” Ryuji mentioned, sporting a troubled expression. “But for some reason, it don’t look like he’s getting along with the others too much.”

“Are you worried about him?”

“Yeah…kinda.”

Ryuji gazed down into his empty bowl, entirely engrossed in his thoughts as he stared at his reflection in the white ceramic. His friend obviously still harboured a deep concern for the wellbeing of his teammates, despite their less than stellar treatment of him. Akira had never been part of a team or involved in any organised sports. He adored baseball but even then, his talent was more geared to being a hitter and he did not require the company of a team to hone his skills in the batting cages. He imagined that the affinity Ryuji had for his ex-teammates was comparable to the bond shared between the Phantom Thieves. When examining the situation from that respect, it was easier for Akira to sympathise with his friend.

Ryuji finally looked up, his teeth grit and features locked into a scowl. “I’ve been thinkin’ about what Nakaoka said. How the whole track team was puttin’ up with Kamoshida’s shit… and how I fucked it all up for ‘em.”

“I-I…think he was right,” he acknowledged, sighing dejectedly. “They don’t even got a club room anymore, so they’ve been storin’ all of their stuff behind the gym. They can’t use any school gear either so they just run laps around the block for practice.”

Akira visibly cringed. The effects of Kamoshida’s selfish actions were so far-reaching that Akira was constantly remind that the devastation didn’t just stop at Ryuji, Ann and himself. Kamoshida had changed the entire order of a school and centred it on satiating his own desires and needs, at the expense of countless students.

_How can one person do so much damage?_

The thought was paralysing, and Akira couldn’t fathom the mindset it would take to stomach such destruction.

“That’s… that’s really unfair, man,” he said quietly, anxiously pulling on a loose thread that had sprouted from his pants.

Ryuji sighed. “That’s just the way the cookie crumbles. There ain’t really a place for outcasts like that…I should know better than anyone.”

“Ditto.”

“Yeah you would know too, wouldn’t you?”

“Uhh _hello_ , criminal record here,” Akira teased, holding his hand up.

“Oooh riiiggghhtt,” Ryuji mused. “I totally forgot you were a thug for a second there! Well good thing the track team is keepin’ their heads low so they don’t end up like us.”

“Mmm yeah, lucky them.”

“Heh, we really don’t belong anywhere do we? But maybe that isn’t so bad. Trying to fit in is a real pain in the ass anyway!”

Akira shrugged. “Well, how could you with _that_ hair anyhow?”

“What!?” Ryuji shrieked, his mouth agape. “You don’t like my hair?! How come you never give Ann shit for hers?!”

“Because she didn’t burn all of the hair follicles in her head to achieve it. Plus…she wears it rather well.”

“Yeah…” Ryuji said quietly, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “She really does, doesn’t she?”

The boys caught each other’s eyes, a slight tension permeated between them as they each tried to keep their expressions neutral. Akira was the first to look away, making a show of adjusting his glasses in an attempt to dispel the awkwardness.

 _What just happened?_ He thought to himself, the sudden shift in the atmosphere had made him feel apprehensive as moisture began to materialise in his palms.

Ryuji cleared his throat awkwardly. “U-uh y-yeah I’ve been meaning to ask you – uh… never mind… it’s nothing.”

“Huh?” Akira murmured. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it. A-anyway it’s been shit-ton of fun hanging with you guys!” Ryuji proclaimed, changing the subject as he flashed Akira a toothy grin. “You’re all so freakin’ cool!”

“Aw shucks… you’re makin’ me blush.”

“It’s true man!”

Ryuji raised his glass, eyes glistening in anticipation. Akira shook his head and laughed, picking up his glass and tapping it lightly against Ryuji’s.

“You do realise these are both empty right? We can’t really toast properly without any liquid to drink afterwards,” he pointed out.

“W-well, it’s the thought that counts, right?”

Akira laughed contently, staring into his empty cup.

“Right.”

 

* * *

 

From the plush hand-knotted Persian rugs, the carmine coloured silk throws and the overabundance of upturned noses and designer clothing, the Wilton Hotel’s expansive buffet and its clientele exuded the prominence and opulence that only extravagant wealth could bring. Having come from a wealthy upbringing herself, courtesy of her parent’s success as international fashion designers, this level of extravagance was nothing new to Ann. But when she eyed her male cohorts sitting opposite her on their respective top grain leather chairs, she could not help but be mildly amused at the awe and wonder that glittered in their eyes as they absorbed their surroundings.

Akira was more discreet about his unfamiliarity, wide-eyed at the array of dishes the buffet had to offer. But Ryuji, on the other hand, had no qualms about demonstrating his excitement in a more conspicuous manner. He shovelled copious amounts of food into his mouth, only stopping to make proclamations about how “fucking awesome this place was”, as bits of meat flew from his mouth. The sight would have repulsed any other girl, but Ann had known Ryuji since middle school and she often likened his over-enthusiasm to that of an excitable puppy’s, allowing her to tolerate it more rather than be irked by it.

She turned her attentions back to her plate, ready to savour the taste of the delectable three-tiered cake that sat atop it.

“God! This is so good!” Ryuji mused, eyes clamped shut in a state of euphoria.

“No wonder why Lady Ann chose this place,” Morgana interjected, accepting the spoonful of food Akira hovered in front of his whiskers.

“Of course it’s good!” she said proudly. “This is a famous hotel after all!”

The conversation turned serious when she brought up a rumour she had heard in the school’s halls. Their first victory as Phantom Thieves had finally been confirmed earlier that week when Kamoshida confessed his crimes and was subsequently taken into police custody. As a result, the police were now scheduled to visit their school to question students and ascertain their involvement in the mysterious confession. This was troubling for them, as all of their names, save for Morgana’s, could easily be connected back to Kamoshida given their forced associations with the teacher.

“Well look,” Ryuiji reasoned. “At least this means we got ‘em pumped up! I keep hearin’ stuff everywhere like, ‘The Phantom Thieves really stole his heart!”

He reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone and holding it towards them. Ann stared back into his screen, his browser open to a black and red themed forum website.

“The Phantom Aficionado Website…?” she read, watching the posts multiply by the minute. “Well done, Phantom Thieves. Now I can keep going too…Thank you for giving us hope.”

Ryuji beamed back at her. “Pretty cool, huh?”

“I was just desperate to deal with my own problems, but seeing people saying all this feels…kinda strange.”

They both turned to Akira, who had unsurprisingly been quiet throughout the entire exchange. Ann had noticed that most of the time, he only ever spoke when he was spoken to and was always more inclined to observe a conversation rather than start one.

“Hey…What do we do now?” Ryuiji asked him.

He looked up and cocked his head, pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. “You planning on eating?”

Ryuji rolled his eyes and brought a palm up to his face in exasperation. “You’re incorrigible, man! Of course I plan on eating but –“

Ann shot up, palms slamming down onto the table loudly as the realisation hit her. “No, wait! Ryuji, he’s right! This place has a time limit!”

Ryuji followed in suit, wide-eyed as he rose from his seat. “Oh crap, we only got an hour to eat! I’m not gonna finish all the beef dishes in time!”

“I need to eat my way through the entire dessert menu!” she added.

The two of them bid Akira a farewell as they made a beeline for the buffet area, assuring him that they would bring him back an assortment of dishes in return for him minding their table. He offered them a nonchalant shrug in response, which was all the affirmation they required before darting off in separate directions, Ryuji making a mad dash toward the meats and Ann sashaying her way to the dessert table. Her eyes bulged when she caught sight of the plethora of desserts splayed out neatly atop a long, clothed table, eliciting an excited gasp as she loaded her plate full of tarts, macarons, cakes and anything with a high sugar content within her vicinity.

When she was satisfied with her selection, she reconvened with Ryuji so that they could make a plate for Akira.

“What kinda food do you think he likes?” Ryuji pondered, his eyes scanning the tables.

“I dunno, he’s a pretty random guy, right? Maybe we should get him something totally subtle but weird, like…”

“Beans?”

“Exactly!” Ann giggled, linking her arm with Ryuji’s as she lead him to the deserted part of the buffet.

She brought a finger to her chin as she examined the exotic dishes, carefully trying to discern what her mysterious companion would find palatable. She felt Ryuji’s eyes lock on to the side of her face as he gaped at her in confusion.

“Woah,” he gasped. “You’re taking this pretty seriously aren’t ya? Why don’t we just get a buncha random crap? He’s gotta like at least one thing we bring him, right?”

She shrugged. “I dunno, I really don’t want to get it wrong. It would be nice if we could get him something he likes but he never really reveals much, does he?”

Ryuji turned his attentions back to the food, his gaze was pensive as he stared down into the dishes lost in thought.

“Is everything okay?” she asked, concerned at her friend’s sudden shift in mood.

“Y-yeah, sorry – I just kinda spaced out.”

“Hm, okay…”

Hesitantly, she picked up nearby tongs and started gathering food onto the empty plate, not entirely sold on her friend’s excuse.

“Hey,” she heard him say quietly. “I’ve been meaning to ask, what do you think about him?”

“Him?”

“Akira, I mean.”

She inhaled sharply, her eyes travelling up to the ceiling as she pondered his question.

_Where did this come from?_

“Well, he’s totally random and weird. Sometimes I think he’s the most oblivious person on the planet but then he says the most ridiculously insightful thing and it completely stumps me,” she mused, her mind drifting back to her past interactions with the bespectacled boy. “He doesn’t really give you anything to work with, but has a weird way of getting you to reveal everything about yourself. I-in a weird way, it kinda makes me wanna get to know him more, ya know?”

Ryuji peered into her eyes and for the first time in all the time that Ann had known the boy, his ordinarily emotive features were entirely unreadable. His gaze felt heavy with unknown emotions, causing her to feel awkward as she stood quietly in her spot.

“H-how do you feel about him?” she asked.

Finally tearing his eyes from hers, Ryuji’s face reverted back to its usual carefree features. He smiled warmly as he picked up the designated utensils and started helping her shovel food onto Akira’s plate.

“Honestly? I think he’s a really cool guy.”

 

* * *

 

Akira peered at his friends curiously, Ann had her arm linked with Ryuji’s as they made their way toward a table filled with an assortment of the strangest looking foods Akira had ever laid eyes on. Without noticing, his stare became wistful as he found himself obsessively scrutinizing their body language. Morgana popped his head out of the bag, following the trajectory of Akira’s eyes.

“They get a long really well don’t they?” Morgana observed, unable to disguise the melancholy in his tone.

Akira tore his eyes away, shifting his focus to the cat.

“Aw,” he replied, affectionately scratching the cat’s chin. “Are you sad?”

“Kinda… Lady Ann deserves better than that vulgar Ryuji.”

“He isn’t so bad.”

Morgana shook his head defiantly. “Hmph, yes he is! He is so crude and vulgar and Lady Ann deserves a true gentleman.”

“Like you?”

“Of course like me! Who else? You boys still have a lot of growing up to do if you want to reach the same level of maturity that I have.”

Akira chuckled at the proud feline’s angry musings. Seeing the object of his affections get along with Ryuji had clearly perturbed Morgana, and any perceived threat to his union with Lady Ann had earned the cat’s ire.

“Calm down, Morgana,” he soothed. “Perhaps when you finally have opposable thumbs, you could challenge Ryuji to a duel?”

The cat let out a prideful mew.

“You know what, Akira? That’s not a bad idea.”

When Ann and Ryuji finally returned to the table, they placed a plate in front of him; it’s contents sending his gag reflex into a frenzy as his nose inadvertently crinkled at the pungent aroma emanating from the sludge in front him.

“W-what is… this?” he managed to utter, finding that he could not tear his eyes away from the pile of mush in front him.

“I didn’t really know what you’d want,” Ryuji answered, his mouth packed with seared Wagyu. “So I just grabbed you some beans.”

Ann interjected gleefully. “There’s some pretty bizarre things there too, so we got you a variety of those. Fried bananas, preserved eggs and …some kind of beans.”

“More beans?!” Morgana gasped, wincing when he caught a glimpse of his and Akira’s shared plate.

“We put so much on the plate that it got all mixed up, but it should probably still taste good.”

“Oh yeah?” Akira grimaced, addressing Ann directly. “Would _you_ like to sample it first?”

Ann laughed awkwardly as she held her hands out in front of her face, shaking her head in adamant refusal. “U-uhh thanks but I’m pretty happy with my own plate. Plus, I would hate to deprive you of such a delicious spread.”

“How considerate of you, _Lady Ann_ ,” Akira teased, shaking his head as he stood up. “Come on, Morgana. If you want a job done properly, you gotta do it yourself.”

Akira trudged off with Morgana in tow. They perused the buffet, filling their plate with dishes that were infinitely more palatable than what Ryuji and Ann had collected on their behalf. As they walked around the buffet area, they managed to overhear the disapproving whispers of the adults around them, unable to mask their distaste as they tailed Akira with their eyes.

“Tsk, how did a child like this end up in here?”

“I certainly hope he didn’t bring his friends. I prefer my meals to remain hooligan-free, thank you very much.”

Their thoughtless comments did not even agitate Akira anymore. He had become so disillusioned by most of the adults he had come into contact with lately, that he just expected it from them at this point. At Morgana’s urging, they traversed the other sections of the buffet, eavesdropping on conversations about the Kamoshida incident. Most of the Wilton Hotel’s patrons exhibited a blatant lack of interest in the news concerning Kamoshida, chalking his actions up to a mere anecdote they could discuss in passing without giving any real weight to the severity of his crimes.

Truth be told, Akira found the overall response a little disheartening. It bothered him that these people, who had supposedly amassed a wealth of knowledge and experience in their years of life, only thought of Kamoshida’s crimes as mere transgressions. It was hard to resist the urge to change all of their hearts too, but Akira was always careful not to get too consumed in the power he held at his fingertips – not wishing to fall a victim to same self-serving and villainous attitude that defined who Kamoshida was.

When he and Morgana returned, the four of them were able to finally consume the entirety of their meals in complete satisfaction of their choices. Wanting to take full advantage of this opportunity and the fruits of their labour, they all vowed not to let any of the food go to waste, with Ryuji and Akira pulling out every move in their arsenal to devour every last crumb. When the deed was done, Akira noticed how constricted his belt felt around his waist, groaning as felt all of the food he had consumed sit in a heap at the pit of his stomach.

“Good job, you guys!” Ann said cheerfully. “How about one last dish to cleanse your palettes? I recommend the seasonal tart! The grapefruit has both alluring sweetness and a tangy sourness.”

Akira shook his head vehemently, the thought of consuming more food instantly making him queasy.

“You know what else has a ‘tangy sourness’?” he asked her, bringing his hand to his mouth.

“What?”

“My stomach acid.”

“Eww! That’s so gross, Akira!”

“Stop!” Ryuji pleaded. “I don’t wanna hear about sour stuff…this is no good, I need to go to the bathroom…”

Akira and Morgana concurred and three of them hurriedly made their way a floor up to the nearest lavatory. When their ‘business’ had concluded, they walked back to the elevators, intending to return to the dining area to collect Ann. They waited patiently for the elevator to arrive before Akira felt a forceful collision against his shoulder. His head jerked sideways to spy the offender, immediately catching sight of a group of burly men in suits surrounding a tall, imposing bald man. Akira could immediately detect the air of superiority he exuded, carrying himself proudly as he pushed in front of the boys to secure his spot on the next elevator trip. One of the suits that tailed him, pushed Ryuji out of the way violently, sending the boy into complete shock.

“What the fuck!?” Ryuji exclaimed loudly, staring at the men in confusion.

The men ignored him, which only worked to exacerbate Ryuji’s outrage. They carried on with their conversation, as if Akira and Ryuji were nothing more than the specs of dusts that had gathered on their shiny leather dress shoes.

“Hey, you’re cuttin’ in line!” Ryuji pointed out angrily.

One of the haughty men turned to address him, sneering down at the boy in disgust as he hovered over Ryuji intimidatingly. “What do you want? We’re in a hurry.”

“Oh, I’m sorry!” Ryuji replied sarcastically, feigning remorse. “So that gives you the right to just butt in front of other people?”

The distinguished bald man finally deigned to address them. His tone laden in exasperation as though he was too exhausted to give them even a modicum of his attention.

“It seems the customer base has changed since I was here last,” he said coolly. “Have they started a day-care?”

“What?”

Ryuji arched his back, his glare threatening as he approached the man. One of the man’s lackeys stepped between him and Ryuji, shielding the boy from advancing any closer. “Sir, we don’t have time for this.”

“Don’t bother with him,” the distinguished man snorted.

Akira couldn’t deny the familiarity of his tone. He was certain he had heard that voice before, and his brain strained as he tried to recall where and how that was even possible. He clutched his head as he began to feel a sharp pain in his temples. The agony was intense as it surged through his head, causing his skin to pale and sweat droplets to form on the edges of his forehead. The feeling could be likened to how he felt during his awakening, but he could not fathom why. He could hear Ryuji and Morgana having a conversation in the background, but their words just registered as incoherent noise as the pain began to pulsate. An image of two menacing eyes flashed across his mind, but just as quickly as it came, it dissipated into nothingness, and all Akira could see was white. He clutched his head more fiercely, tugging on tufts of his hair out of desperation.

Ryuji finally called the elevator before turning his attentions to Akira.

“Hey man,” he heard Ryuji call to him. “What happened?! Are you okay? You’re not lookin’ too good.”

Akira steeled himself as he shook his head, intent on burying the pain so that he didn’t worry his friends.

“I’m okay…” he assured them.

Ryuji and Morgana eyed him probingly. Neither of them bought his assurances but they perceived that Akira was not willing to give them more of an insight, so they chose to move past it. When they returned, Ryuji and Ann relayed their mutual experiences in dealing with the haughty adults at the hotel. Akira’s mind was vacant for their entire exchange, intent to focus on figuring out the mystery behind why the distinguished man’s voice rang familiar. He felt his temper begin to flare when he recalled how the man and his subordinates addressed the three of them. They gazed upon the boys as though they were lower life forms, disgusted that they even had to pay them an ounce of their attention. Akira mulled over how the other patrons of this establishment shared in the man’s sentiments, not even trying to mask their distaste at the prospect of three high school students having the ‘audacity’ to intrude on their opulent lifestyles.

Their blatant show of superiority disgusted him and he began to wonder if this was truly what society had been reduced to, victimising weaker parties for the sake of their own advancement and self-preservation.

 _Are we truly doomed to a fate of feeling inferior?_ He asked himself.

He channelled his attentions back to the present, trying to gauge the conversation his friends were so engrossed in so that his absence evaded them.

Ann sighed. “If we ignore people who are in trouble, I’d go back to being the same as I was before.”

“Well…I suppose that’s true,” Morgana answered. “But you’re under my tutelage now, and there’s nothing we can’t accomplish as Phantom Thieves.”

Ryuji nodded in agreement. “Shouldn’t we be able to help ‘em out?”

“But…that means we’ll have to fight Shadows again, doesn’t it?” Ann reasoned, exhibiting her justified concerns.

“Indeed. That can’t be avoided.”

Ryuji shrugged indifferently and chuckled at the girl’s protestations.

“I’m sure we’ll manage. Right…?” he grinned, looking over at Akira.

The possibility had never occurred to Akira before. Their first venture into the metaverse had been so surreal that he did not even have time to entertain the possibility of using his powers to continue to help the disadvantaged. But he was tired of being a bystander to everyone else’s misfortune, including his own. He looked up, returning his friend’s gaze with a fierce determination.

“Count me in.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case it wasn't already obvious enough, I have such a soft spot for Ryuji and Shiho as characters :D


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy first of the month! This one is pure AkirAnn. Just cuz I felt like it.

Heeding the words of Benjamin Franklin, there were three things in life that Akira Kurusu could count on – death, taxes and Ann Takamaki saying hello to him every morning. So when he walked into class on a crisp Friday morning and took his seat right behind hers, he was stumped when she failed to extend him any sort of greeting, almost as though his presence had not even registered on her radar. He deliberated silently on whether he should be the one to break the ice and draw her attentions with a simple ‘hey’ or ‘how are you’, but Ann seemed so immersed in whatever was plaguing her thoughts, that anything he did would have felt like an intrusion.

He studied her dour frame. Her shoulders were slumped and her gaze was distant as she peered outside of the expansive window next to their desks. It was one of the few benefits that Class D’s seating arrangement afforded them. When they wanted to their mind to wander or even just stare at anything that was infinitely more aesthetic than Ms Chuono’s gaudy makeup, the large window was there to grant them that luxury. He continued to analyse Ann’s profile, trying to gauge her mood. Something had her vexed, it was painted all over her features by the crinkle of her brows, the rapid movement of her eyes and the way she bit down into her bottom lip.

His thoughts started to race, his mind drawing a new conclusion with every second that past. The last time he had seen her like this was the day that she opened up to him about Kamoshida. Every part of him egged him to do something, anything that would assure her that she was not alone. But things felt different this time, he didn’t want to pry but he also wanted her to know that he was there when she was ready to divulge. When the lunch bell tolled he darted out of the classroom and made a beeline toward one of the school’s many vending machines. He was intent on trying to cheer her up with the one thing he knew would brighten her sprits.

Sugar. 

His eyes scanned the contents, examining the dozens of the pre-packaged snacks at his disposal. He stopped when they fell on a box of strawberry cream flavoured Pocky.

 _How can ya go wrong with Pocky?_  He assured himself, inputting the code and retrieving the eye-catchingly pink package when it dispensed.

He returned to class five minutes before lunch ended, intent on executing his plan without having to worry about the unforgiving eyes of his classmates trying to insinuate certain things by his conduct. He and Ann had already spent so much time talking in class, he imagined that buying her snacks would only fuel their accusations. Channelling his inner Phantom Thief, he slipped into the classroom discretely and placed the box in her desk cubby, atop her notebook and beside stationary that was for too dainty for Akira’s sensibilities.

He sat back down at his desk, arms folded and staring at the clock ticking away above the blackboard.

He began counting, “one, two…”

On the count of three students came milling back into the classroom, clamouring to their seats and rushing to finish their lunchtime anecdotes before Kawakami re-joined them to resume her lesson. His eyes trailed Ann as she entered the room and ambled to her seat, still unable to conceal her troubled expression. She sighed as she collapsed back into the chair, reaching into her desk to retrieve her notebook and biro. He spied her hand as it brushed against the cardboard packaging, causing her to duck her head out of curiosity to acquire a better view of the mysterious box inside her cubby.

“Huh?” he heard her mutter, watching her retrieve the snack from the small compartment. She stared down at the familiar packaging as a small smile tugged on the corners of her lips, which prompted his own to mirror her sentiments.

She flipped around to face him, holding the box in her hand as she gestured to it.

“Hey,” she whispered, just as Kawakami returned. “Is this from you?”

He grinned, holding a finger to his lips then using it to point in Kawakami’s direction, as their young homeroom teacher flashed them an irritated glare. 

“Ms Takamaki, anything you would like to share with the class?”

“U-uh n-no, Kawakami-Sensei, sorry…” she stuttered, cheeks crimson as she shifted back around and stared at her desk bashfully.

Kawakami narrowed her eyes at the two before resuming her lecture. The attention they garnered sparked a plethora of whispers amongst their classmates but their insinuations didn’t bother Akira. He had already caught wind of gossip implying that he and Ann were a couple but by that same token, there was also a rumour circulating that he was the chieftain of the local Yakuza outfit, so the fabrications about his relationship status with Ann did not perturb him in the least. He just hoped that Ryuji was not affected by the whispers, having noticed his friend’s blatant affection for their female teammate.

Akira spent the rest of his afternoon classes adhering to his usual routine of daydreaming and staring listlessly outside of the nearby window, only perking up to answer the occasional question his teachers directed at him. A sigh of relief escaped him when he heard the sound of the afternoon bell resounding all throughout the school, signifying the end of their day. He stretched his arms above his head before gathering his things, grateful that Morgana had opted to stay home from school today as he slung his duffle over his shoulder and for once, was not overburdened by the feline’s weight. 

 _I need to stop letting him overindulge on the cat food_ , he mused.

As he rose from his seat he felt something poke his arm. He looked up to see Ann beaming at him with half a Pocky stick protruding from her lips and holding another toward him between her thumb and forefinger. He obliged, accepting the treat from her with a smile. 

“So, do I have  _you_  to thank for these?” she said, munching happily on the strawberry cream coating.

He shrugged, shaking his head. “Nope, wasn’t me.” 

“Oh really?”

“Really.” 

She eyed him questioningly, pulling another stick out of the box and holding it against her chin as she sized him up. “Okay then, who was it?”

“I’m pretty sure it was Morgana.” 

“Morgana hmm? You mean, the same kitty who seems to be suspiciously absent from your bag today?”

“Well, he was embarrassed so he left early.” 

Ann giggled, cocking her head. “Okay so Morgana, the cat who isn’t even remotely tall enough to reach the coin slot on the vending machine, got this for me?”

“Yep.”

“And carried it over to my desk all the way from the machine, without being noticed by anybody?”

He plucked another stick from the box, winking at her as he snapped the tip off with his teeth. “He truly is a marvel, isn’t he? You know he can talk too.”

“Oh just shut up already,” she giggled, socking him lightly on the arm. “Why did you get these for me?”

He sighed, hands slipping back into his pockets. “I dunno…you just seem a bit troubled. Is everything okay?”

Ann’s eyes grew downcast as her features became shrouded with worry. She hesitated before speaking, arranging the thoughts in her mind in an effort to veil her misgivings.

“It felt like someone was watching me this morning,” she ruminated. “What should I do…? Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to at least ask…”

“Watching you? Like a stalker or something?” 

“U-um, never mind. I-it’s nothing, really! I don’t wanna trouble you.”

He peered down at her, her expression strained as she attempted to flash him her best reassuring smile. He wondered if he should press her but she didn’t seem as distraught as she did that afternoon at the station, so he decided against it. Plus, he was certain that she would tell him if the situation was dire, especially given everything they had gone through together.

“You sure?” 

“Yeah…I’m sure.” 

“Alright then,” he sighed. “I guess I’ll catch you tomorrow.”

He offered her a casual salute as he turned to leave. Before he could reach the exit, he felt a tug on the sleeve of his blazer. He turned back around and spied her peering at him anxiously from beneath her prominent lashes.  

 “W-wait,” she stuttered. “Are you doing anything right now?”

Her tone was measured and concealed her motive, but Akira could spy the nerves underlying her demeanour as she fidgeted in her spot. She twirled a strand of her flaxen hair around her index finger, her eyes wide as they traversed his for an answer. He felt his lips curl into a smirk as he met her gaze. He knew exactly what she wanted and he would be lying if he said he was averse to the idea. Ann clearly needed somebody to talk to and he reasoned that it would be in the best interests of their friendship for him to comply. 

“Uhh, hanging out with you?” he answered finally, scratching the back of his head.

Her turquoise eyes widened, clearly taken aback by his brazen response. Eventually, her features softened and she beamed back at him triumphantly.

“Good answer!” She exclaimed happily, slinging her bag on her shoulder before they left the classroom side by side.

 

* * *

 

The smell of coffee wafted to Akira’s nostrils, immediately conjuring thoughts of Leblanc in his cognizance. Sojiro’s smirking face, complete with cowlick, immediately took its place at the forefront of his mind as Akira spied Ann sitting across from him, cupping a mug in her palms before bringing it to her lips to take a delicate sip of the cinnamon flavoured hot cocoa inside. It was no secret that the café owner held a certain affinity for members of the opposite sex, never failing to allude to his skills as a womanizer in conversation or constantly offer his ward advice on how to impress girls. He could already envisage Sojiro’s face, brimming with interest upon finding out that Akira had just spent the afternoon with a female classmate, especially one as alluring as Ann.

 _Why am I even thinking about you right now?_ Akira thought to himself, perplexed.  _Dammit, Sojiro!_

“Hey,” he heard her say, interrupting his inner monologue. “There’s actually something I wanted to tell you.”

“Oh?” he responded, addressing her. “What is it?” 

“You know how I’ve been visiting Shiho in the hospital lately?”

 “About that…” he muttered. “How is she doing?”

Akira gulped. His worry for the former volleyball starter had eclipsed any delicacy and hesitation he felt at inquiring about her condition. The thought had nagged at his mind for weeks, but he had been waiting for Ann to provide him with an appropriate segue, not wanting to seem insincere or crass. 

“Well she isn’t a hundred percent yet, but she’s been doing a lot better recently. Both physically and emotionally too, so that’s been pretty great.”

“Phew,” he breathed. “That’s… a relief. I’m glad to hear she’s doing okay.”

“Yeah…” 

Her stare drifted to the table and she began scratching its surface nervously with her cuticle. The atmosphere felt reminiscent of their initial visit to the diner, when Ann revealed all of her troubles with Kamoshida. It had felt dismal and oppressive, the severity of the situation at the time was an immense weight on both of their shoulders. He remembered feeling debilitated by pressure and the uncertainty of his powers caused him to wonder if he could truly use them to give her the release from her troubles that she sought. But this time he felt empowered, the high of officially forming the Phantom Thieves still ever present in his system. If she needed him to be strong right now, then he was more than willing to comply.

“You know… She apologised to me,” she continued. “She said sorry for not telling me about Kamoshida and all of the things he was doing to her. But I realise that it was my fault too. I didn’t fully understand how much trouble she was in and as a result, I wasn’t there for her…So, I apologized as well.” 

Akira nodded mutely, absorbing every word the blonde uttered. He was always amazed at how close their bond was and slightly envious that he had yet to experience that with anyone else.

“She’s…a really strong person,” he affirmed, offering her a reassuring smile. 

Ann giggled. “Isn’t she? Shiho is a great girl.” 

“So are you.” 

“W-what? You think I’m great?” 

“Actually, I meant that you’re also a really strong person,” he corrected. “But you are pretty great too, I guess.”

Ann cocked an eyebrow. “You guess?” 

“You can be a bit stubborn sometimes.” 

“Excuse me! This coming from the guy who basically chased after me all over Shibuya Station begging me to tell him all of my problems!”

“Okay, so maybe we’re both stubborn,” he grinned, flicking a loose tendril from his eye. “But we’re also pretty fucking great.”

She laughed, the sound seeping into his ears like an infectious melody. He continued to hold her gaze as the laughter died down, captivated by the mirth that danced across her cornflower-tinted eyes. He loved that he could give her this, to make her laugh as though all of the pain that had been accumulated for years had been wiped from existence. They were polar opposites in so many respects – from their features, their speech, their tastes, the way that they dressed and how they communicated with others. But despite the evident disparity in many of their characteristics, fundamentally they always seemed to travel on the same wavelength and were wholly aware and receptive to each other’s cues. The silence that resonated in between all of their conversations never needed to be filled and the level of comfort and ease that they had cultivated in each other’s presence both thrilled and terrified Akira.

When he regained his senses, he saw her staring back at him, studying his face with the same intensity he imagined he had been examining hers with. Her features were fixed in an indecipherable expression, causing him to feel all too conscious of how he was being perceived in that moment. He noticed that moments like this always seemed to transpire between them, snippets of time that were spent stealing curious glances at one another. He couldn’t fathom her reasoning for it, but had become well acquainted with his own. Everything about her was like a magnet to him, causing all of his attention to gravitate toward her until he lacked the ability to focus on anything or anyone else. She blinked, instantly breaking the spell. They tore their eyes away from each other in unison, with Akira taking a sip of his coffee and Ann drumming her nails anxiously against the table.

“I’m glad I finally got to tell Shiho everything I couldn’t bring myself to say before,” she said, staring into space dreamily. “I’ve always felt guilty for not having enough faith in her abilities. She’s amazing and benching her would’ve only cost Kamoshida the team’s winning streak. I should have dared him to try and take her starting spot.”

He sighed, lolling his tongue around the interior lining of his mouth as he pondered her words.

“You’re probably right…” he finally concluded.

“I knew it, I’m so stupid. That’s why I believed Kamoshida’s authority outweighed Shiho’s own ability.”

“You can’t blame yourself for any of his actions, Ann. Kamoshida had the upper hand and any student would’ve crumbled under his influence. The difference between any other ordinary student and you, is that you decided to fight back. Nobody can take that away from you.” 

She looked up from drawing invisible circles on the table’s surface, smiling at him demurely. “You always know what to say, don’t you?”

“Yep.” 

She chuckled at his abruptness. “Akira, do you remember the last time I talked to you like this?”

“How could I forget...” he responded in a hushed tone. 

“I felt so alone…scared, even. But because you were there for me, I decided not to go through with sleeping with Kamoshida.”

He nodded, refraining from making any attempts to interrupt her.

“I was surprised at how pushy you were about it,” she continued, giggling to herself at the memory. “But now I see you just wanted to help.”

She looked up at him, expression sincere. “I just wanted to say… thank you.”

“I-It’s no big deal…” 

“You really have a hard time with people expressing their gratitude towards you, don’t you?!”

“It doesn’t happen a lot, okay!” Akira laughed. “But you’re right – I should learn to be more gracious. So, you’re welcome.”  

Ann sighed, her tone apathetic. “I know what you mean. People always used to call me ‘prissy bitch’ or ‘Kamoshida’s girl’, so I’ve never experienced a lot of gratitude in my life either.”

He couldn’t help but laugh indifferently, his thoughts drifting back to his own negative brandings. “Yeah… I hear you.”

Her head perked up suddenly, the gesture indicative of her coming to a sudden realisation. “Hey, um… Personas are the power of the heart, right?”

“Right.” 

“That means if our hearts get stronger, our Personas will too, yes?”

“Well…that stands to reason, I suppose.” 

A smile crept to her face as she gazed at him, her stare riddled with excitement. “Let’s train together then! And try to make our hearts super strong! Not only will our personas get stronger as a result, but we’ll be better at taking insults like that in stride.”

“Count me in!” he grinned, not entirely sure what he was agreeing to but amused by her childlike enthusiasm nonetheless.

She returned his smile, exuding her trademark confidence.  He envisioned the fire of passion that burned inside of her. The few sparse embers that had remained after the Kamoshida fallout had now erupted into a raging inferno. She glowed with an aura of rejuvenation at her newfound purpose, illuminating her beauty even further. Her determination was infectious, causing excitement and anticipation to swell inside of him. She had given him inspiration that could be channelled into their efforts as the Phantom Thieves and he was excited to see where their adventure would lead them. 

Ann stared past his shoulder, bringing a finger to her lips as she ruminated.

 “Hmmm, a strong heart…” she mused. “I wonder what that even means…”

“Well – “

“How about this!” She interrupted. “I won’t get any refills on fountain drinks! I mean, they’re free, so not getting any would mean you have a strong heart! Right..?”

Akira eyed her, mouth agape. He tried to discern her logic but his brain proved unable to compute it. Suddenly, he heard himself erupting into a hearty, audible laugh. She gazed at him, confused, her innocent expression only fuelling his amusement

“W-wait,” she muttered. “Is that not right?” 

He shook his head, lips fixed into a warm smile. “No, Ann. You’re absolutely right. Only the strongest of hearts can deny free refills.” 

 

* * *

 

Their first foray into Mementos, otherwise referred to as ‘everybody’s palace’ by Morgana, had been surreal. The communal dungeon had taken the form of a train station, emulating scenery that would aptly represent the general public and was non-specific to a particular individual’s desires. Ann and her cohorts travelled the desolate Path of Qimraunt in search of the shadow of a man named Nakanohara, who had been accused of stalking his ex-girlfriend. The path spanned two floors, with the landscape appearing more macabre the deeper they descended. The lighting in the area was minimal and bathed the atmosphere in a blood red glow, their only saving grace being the headlights of Morgana in the form of an automobile. Mysterious crimson vines sprawled along the walls enclosing them, accompanied by thick chains that swung above their heads almost menacingly.

The imagery and ambience inside Mementos could not be described as anything other than eerie and oppressive, causing the hairs on her arm to stand on end and zapping her strength at an alarmingly faster rate than she had experienced inside of Kamoshida’s palace. By the time they had defeated Nakanohara’s shadow and stolen his treasure, Ann desired nothing more than to be liberated from the confines of the morbid enclosure and to feel the crisp evening air feather against her cheeks. When they finally returned to the real world and her, Akira and Morgana exited Yongen Jaya Station, she made sure to savour the breeze as it caressed her skin, grateful that she was no longer confined inside of the creepy labyrinth. 

“Lady Ann, you shouldn’t be walking home by yourself this late,” Morgana purred, brushing his paw against his cheek. “It’s not safe for a –“

A yawn escaped the cat before he could finish his sentence, unable to mask the extent of his fatigue. It was understandable, Morgana had exerted the most effort in this incursion, switching back and forth between his regular and van forms and carting them around the derelict tunnels so they didn’t have to travel by foot. She bent down, scratching him affectionately behind the ears as he purred contently in response to her touch. 

“It’s okay, Morgana,” she assured him. “You should get some rest, you worked harder than all of us today.”

“You mean it, Lady Ann?” 

She nodded, giving the feline an affectionate scratch under the chin before she rose.

“Don’t worry, Romeo. I got this,” Akira interjected, wiping off his spectacles with the hem of his undershirt.

Ann peered at him, trying to still the rhythm of her heartbeat as it began to race. It wasn’t like her and Akira had never been alone before. But for some reason, as she stood enwrapped by the darkness of the night sky with nothing but the flickering streetlights to illuminate their path, the innocent act felt much more intense. There was no background noise, save for the sound of their soles treading on the pavement. There were no classmates or diner patrons to fill their surroundings with pointless chitchat or any nondescript sounds to dull the fervour that she felt from just being in his presence.

She held her hands up, shaking them furiously in a bid to assure them that she would be fine. “Akira, you don’t have to do that. Honestly, I’ll be okay.”

“It’s no big deal, Ann. I’m happy to do it but if you really don’t want me to, then I won’t,” he answered, appearing nonchalant.

He was an expert in the way that he always managed to keep the ball in her court, daring her to throw it and always keeping her guessing as to whether he would catch it. To his credit, Akira always did, and seemed wholeheartedly responsive to all of her gestures. But something inside of her always feared the slight chance that one-day he wouldn't, and the thought alone was enough to fill her with more dread than she would have liked.

“I just don’t want to trouble you…” she muttered quietly, staring down at her boots and trying to evade any eye contact with the tall, slouchy boy. 

“You, a bother? Never!” He exclaimed jovially, winking at her as he walked past her and started on their way.

She smiled at his back, giving Morgan a final wave before she jogged to catch up with him. They spent half the walk in silence, their shoulders only inches apart as they traipsed through the quiet suburban backstreets.

“So…what do you think about what Nakanohara said? About Madarame, I mean,” she asked, sparing a quick glance at his profile.

 “That’s been bothering you too, huh?”

“Yeah… do you think it’s something we need to be worrying about?”

He inhaled, taking a few moments to allow her question to marinate before answering. One thing Ann could not fault him for, was his passion for the Phantom Thieves and their objectives. She didn’t know the exact circumstances of his arrest, but she always assumed that it had been a catalyst for prompting all of his substantial efforts as the leader of their outfit. He approached every task and battle with a determination that outshone everyone else’s and unbeknownst to him, Akira brought out the best in each and every one of his teammates, igniting their drives to work harder to accomplish their goals.

“I really don’t know at this point,” he answered. “If what Nakanohara said is true, then this 'Madarame' guy definitely sounds like someone who could benefit  _greatly_  from a change of heart. I guess all we can do for now, is make sure we don’t get complacent and keep our ears to the ground. Right?”

She grinned, noting how catching his resolve was. “Right! Whatever happens, we’ll be ready. I mean… how could we not, with you as our leader?”

“Ann, please. It’s not becoming of a leader to blush in front of his teammates.”

She giggled, poking his ribs affectionately. “It’s almost as if you don’t know how fantastic you are.”

His steps came to a halt behind her, prompting her to turn and face him.

“I could say the same for you,” he answered, flashing her his trademark grin. His default gesture possessed such a drastic effect over his features, turning them from modest and refined to devilishly handsome almost instantly, causing a her body to flush warm each time he graced her with his smile.  

“Oh, so now you’re saying I’m fantastic?” 

“I am...And I have,” he laughed, brushing past her as he resumed their walk.

They rounded a corner and Ann was immediately filled with an overwhelming sense of disappointment. She knew that her building was just a block away and reaching it would effectively put an end to their time together, which was something that she had been dreading the moment they had set foot on their journey from the station.

She paused in front of a stately tower, it’s façade reflecting the finest that contemporary architecture had to offer. The outer walls of the building were rendered with a stone-grey colouring and lined with a multitude of windows, showcasing the stylishly furnished apartments contained within. She stood in front of the tall, wrought iron gate enclosing the entrance from the general public, swiping her key card at the junction fashioned onto the nearby stone pillar.

“Uh, this is me,” she blushed, indicating to the opulent building behind her. 

Akira gaped at her. He was speechless as his eyes scanned the building’s exterior, craning his neck upward so that he could absorb its full effect as it sprawled miles above his head.

“Holy crap, Ann. These are your digs?”

She nodded, suddenly bashful at her parent’s extravagant residence. 

“Jeez, if this is what it looks like from the outside, I can’t wait to see what the inside of your place actually looks like.”

She scoffed, poking her tongue out at him teasingly. “Oh yeah? And who said you were ever going to see the inside of my place?”

Akira blinked, shaking his head furiously upon coming to the realisation of what his words implied.

“I meant that in the least creepy way possible, Ann! I swear.”  

“Sure you did.” 

He laughed heartily, allowing the quiet of the night to resonate soon after. They stood a foot apart from one another in silence, each of them waiting for the other to say the words that would lead to the inevitable parting that both were hesitant to initiate. 

“Thanks for walking me home,” she heard herself speak. “I really appreciate it.”

“Yeah… no problem.” 

He stepped forward, closing the distance between them until it was reduced to mere centimetres. In the distance she heard a faint clicking sound, but all that she could focus on was his chest feathering lightly against hers as he continued to draw himself closer. Her head whipped upward in reflex, stunned by the proximity of their bodies. She captured his eyes with hers, trying to discern his intent as an immense heat radiated from her cheeks. The instant that their eyes met, Ann could immediately feel static crackling in the air surrounding them. His gaze was deep and intense, making it more difficult for her to extricate the Joker persona from his true character. It caused shock waves to ripple through every inch of her body, electrifying all of her senses at once. 

“W-what are you doing, Joker?” she managed to ask in between laboured breaths.

He blinked, peering at her curiously as he extended his arm passed her shoulder. “Huh? I was just getting the gate for you.”

She turned, watching him push the gate open behind her. It suddenly occurred to her that the clicking noise that she heard before had been the gate opening automatically in response to her key card. She exhaled sharply, feeling utterly foolish for thinking that his intent held a deeper meaning

_Damn you, Joker!_

“Boundaries, remember!” she said exasperatedly, giving him a panicked shove as she hurriedly made her way inside. “I’ll see you later, J-Joker. I-I mean, A-Akira.” 

“Goodnight, Kitty Woman!” he called after her jokingly, holding his hand up as he watched her shuffle a little too eagerly toward the doorway.

“Ew, don’t call me that! It’s Panther!” 

She could feel his gaze fixated on her back as she heard him snicker in response. 

“You’ll always be Kitty Woman to me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can assure you that this story is not proudly sponsored by Pocky. But I did demolish a box or two whilst writing this ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologise for not being able to update this sooner. I'm in the home stretch of my degree and it has a nasty habit of cutting into my writing time :'(. Thank you all once again for the love!

 

An expanse of lush greenery stretched before Ann’s eyes, amplifying the excitement that had been culminating inside of her. Being stifled by the confines of the classroom for a majority of the day had heightened the thrill of being outdoors and in Tokyo’s closest offering to nature, enveloped by the endless cherry blossoms and fresh unspoilt air. Inokashira Park had always been something of a sanctuary to Ann, her local haunt where she would meet Shiho and they would while their days away discussing the multitude of trivialities attached with teenage life whilst consuming any sugary treat that had taken their fancy. It was also her refuge in times of despair and isolation, finding the sublime ambience highly therapeutic to her dour moods. Now, it would act as an ad hoc training ground, an arena where she would commission the aid of Akira Kurusu in assisting her endeavours to strengthen her heart.

She spied her partner, his slouched figure propped atop a knee-length split rail enclosure fashioned out of lumber taken from Japanese magnolia. He surveyed her with curiosity, his steel-hued eyes locked on hers as unkempt strands of his midnight black hair blew lazily amidst the mid-afternoon breeze. The gust had styled his locks into a windswept look and with nothing obscuring his angular face, the full measure of his comely features had been unveiled. His lips, ordinarily fashion in their usual smirk, were stretched across his face in a hard line as he continued to scrutinize her, patiently awaiting her explanation for hauling him here immediately upon the conclusion of their afternoon class.

Like usual, he wore a placid expression, not offering her entry into the ruminations Ann knew were swirling around in his mind. But Akira never did reveal much, always opting to cloak his reflections behind stony silences, witty repartee or audacious stunts that vindicated his position as leader of the Phantom Thieves of Hearts. Gaining any kind insight into Akira’s genuine thoughts and temperament had become a privilege for Ann, small bounties for all of the effort she eagerly invested into figuring out the enigma that was Akira Kurusu.

She swung her arms from side to side excitedly, captivated by the radiance of the day. “Man, big open spaces like this are great!”

“Mhmm and what am I doing here again?” he asked.

“I was getting to that…” she pouted, throwing him a disapproving glare. “Remember what I said before about wanting to strengthen my heart? Well, I came up with a way to do it!”

“Oh I can’t wait to hear this,” he answered, an impish glint flashing across his eyes.

A smile slowly crept to his features as he awaited her response. He leaned forward in a show of eagerness, balancing his elbows above his knees. He peered at her with a look of boyish amusement, almost as though he were a child and she just suggested they play his favourite game. It was this side of Akira that rendered him utterly irresistible to her. This playful and understatedly wicked persona he masked with his unassuming spectacles and meagre mannerisms. She often wondered if his glasses were corrective or just another form of trickery he employed to deceive unsuspecting individuals.

“I think having a strong heart means that you don’t let anything get under your skin. So basically, I want you to say really crazy shit to me, and I’ll try not to get fazed by it.”

His smile erupted into a full-blown grin, affirming his willingness to answer her challenge. “Okay, so what kinda stuff should I say?”

Her grin mirrored his and she winked at him triumphantly. “We’ve already started, Kurusu! I won’t let that hesitation shake me.”

He smirked and extended his arms above his head, simulating pre-workout stretches. His readiness to meet any challenge issued to him, no matter how trivial, had always been one of his most admirable traits.

“Let’s do this,” he said confidently, craning his neck.

“C’mon!” she cajoled. “Hit me with your best shot!”

  
“You’re stupid.”

 _Wow, didn’t expect him to come out swinging_.

She camouflaged her shell shock with a resolute frown, startled by Akira’s immediate show of brusqueness. “Yeah, yeah, yeah! And?”

“That response was annoying.”

_Fair enough. Hell, even I’m annoyed._

“Uh huh, uh huh. What else?” she exclaimed, pleased that he hadn’t manage to crack her composure yet.

In one fluid motion, he rose from his seat with the same grace he ordinarily reserved for their forays into the cognitive world, executing some of the most visually stunning acrobatics Ann had ever witnessed.

Without missing a beat, his eyes locked with hers and his demeanour sobered.

“I love you,” he told her, his countenance exhibiting no signs of faltering.

She felt herself spring back reflexively after the last syllable left his tongue, akin to the way her hand instantaneously recoils upon coming into contact with extreme heat.

“Wait, wh-what!?” she cried, no longer concerned with retaining her poise as a fire erupted inside of her, sending her insides into a tailspin as they began to somersault on their own accord.

The air surrounding them became impregnated with a heavy silence, with Akira refusing to even blink in fear that it would pierce the mounting tension. The wind lapped harshly against Ann’s frigid stance as she continued to eye him with incredulity, begging him for a follow-up to his pronouncement.

He permitted a few more moments of silence to pass before the corner of his lips began to curl upward ever so slightly. He hovered over her, triumphant and cocky in his stance as his electric stare continued to send ripples of anticipation through her. His features soon broke with unabashed laugher as he brimmed with pride once again, peering at her with the same impudent expression he ordinarily reserved for cowering shadows.

“Well, well, well,” he jeered, his tone laced with mirth. “I haven’t lost my touch.”

“W-w-what?!”

“You had me worried for a second there but it looks like I’m still number one at tripping people up!”

Her eyes stayed wide and glued to his features, equal parts terrified and astonished by how handily he managed to toy with her.

“T-that’s cheating!” she cried, stomping her boot into the grass. “You’re disqualified, Akira!”

“All’s fair in _love_ and war, Takamaki. Don’t be angry just cause I beat you at your own game.”

She sighed, marvelled at how spent she was by this one interaction. “You are a menace, Akira Kurusu. But I suppose you’re right…I did tell you to rile me up.”

She wore a determined expression, craning her neck from side to side before plugging her ears and screwing her eyes shut as she brought herself to the ground. “Time for round two! Bring it on!”

She heard him chuckle in response. “You’re such a goof, Ann. C’mon, I don’t think your heart can take anymore of this.”

She sighed dejectedly, eyes focused on the grass as she bashfully plucked a few blades from the dirt. “Yeah… I don’t think this is helping my persona too much at all.”

“Wanna make me feel better?” she pouted, peering up at him expectantly from underneath her lashes.

He shrugged, the afternoon sun colouring him charcoal as it cast its shadow over his tall frame. “Sure, what do you need me to do?”

She raised her hand, beckoning for him to assist in her ascent from the ground. He obliged of course, with Ann taking note of how impeccably their hands fit, perfectly clasped in a manner more effortless than Akira himself. He expended almost no effort in bringing her back up to her feet, revealing the wonders the metaverse had worked on his strength.

“Was that all?” he grinned, plucking an errant leaf from her shoulder.  

“You wish,” she teased. “You’re gonna treat me to some – “

“Crepes?”

“See, this is why you’re our leader, Akira. You’re a quick study!” she winked, shoving her bag in his arms before leaving him with a view of her bouncing pigtails as she bounded onward toward her sugary utopia.

They had ventured partway through the park when she felt her phone vibrate in her pocket, stopping her in her tracks. Liberating the device from her coat pocket, she hastily scanned the email notification that flashed across her screen.

Akira stopped behind her, peering over her shoulder to ascertain the interruption.

“What’s up?” he asked.

“Sorry, I just got an email from my agency,” she responded half-heartedly, eyes darting side to side as she read the email. “The next shoot is… really far. Wait! What’s this at the end?”

“It’s a notice saying to pay extra attention to the time and place they tell you,” she continued. “Apparently some models haven’t been showing up at all lately.”

“That’s…kinda flaky,” he shrugged.

“That’s a bit rich coming from you.”

He clutched his mid-section in jest, feigning outrage. “Please, Takamaki. If I had a yen for every time somebody called me ‘reliable’…”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re great. Anyway, it sounds like shoots have been real hectic with all the scrambling they’ve had to do for substitutes.”

“That’s odd.”

She nodded. “It’s a total mystery. It must really confuse the staff to see a sub showing up too. Though actually, my first modelling gig was as a sub!”

His shoulders perked up. “Oh yeah?”

“Yep, back when I was still living in Finland. My parents didn’t have enough models for their event.”

“Are they designers?”

“Haven’t I told you? Yeah they are both fashion designers who put on some seriously extravagant shows. They jump from country to country, so I only really see them for half of the year. Maybe even less these days…”

He nodded, expression clouded as he stared past her into the horizon. “That freedom sounds nice.”

“Yeah…” she answered, leaves crunching underneath her boot as folded her arms and shifted her weight onto one leg. “It is pretty great. Though, it was tough when I was a kid. It was just my live-in caretaker and me…I didn’t really have any friends.”

His gaze met hers, visage indecipherable as he studied her face as meticulously as he would hieroglyphics. She wasn’t sure how to react and couldn’t discern whether he pitied her or was just indifferent to her disclosure. He allowed the silence to build until it frenzied into awkwardness, finally fracturing with discomfort with a sympathetic smile.

“Wow,” she laughed, desperately trying to alleviate the tension. “That got dark fast…”

“W-well…if it’s any consolation…you’ll always have a friend in me,” he assured her, shuffling awkwardly in his spot as his cheeks reddened.

Ann couldn’t help but giggle. When it came to facing down hoards of shadows and mastering the artistry of formulating the perfect quip, Akira’s skills were second to none. But when it came to sincerity, or exhibiting candour that brought him that one step closer to wearing his heart on his sleeve, he didn’t know how to cope, almost as though expressing any kind of emotion that wasn’t satirical was such an onerous imposition on him. She could have poked fun at him, he had revealed a sliver of vulnerability and afforded her the perfect opportunity to reciprocate his earlier torment. But moments like this were scarce, and witnessing Akira be so candid with his sincerity engulfed her with a sense of warmth that she was not prepared to sacrifice for the momentary high of getting one up on him.

“Thanks, Akira,” she smiled. “Same goes for you too, just so you know.”  

He cleared his throat. “U-uhhh…yeah…”

She giggled, sparing him the excruciating labour of having to change the subject. “Honestly, when I’m modelling it almost feels like I’m connecting with my parents somehow.”

“That’s great, Ann.”

“Yeah…How about you? I mean… what are your parents like?” she questioned hesitantly, trying to gauge his reaction at her feeble attempt to pry into information he had yet to reveal.

Akira had never divulged any details about his life prior to coming to Tokyo, with Ann and Ryuji having to resort to idle gossip in order to ascertain even the slightest tidbit concerning his arrest. It was another factor that contributed to his status as an enigma and fed her determination to unravel the mysteries he left in his wake. His aloof and standoffish qualities constantly dared her to try her hand at unveiling as much about him as he would allow, without outwardly inviting her persistent attempts.

To her surprise, her question was met with an all-knowing smirk as Akira immediately detected the extent of her curiosity. “You don’t need to be shy about asking me, Ann.”

“Well you’ve never talked about them before!”

“No one has ever asked.”

“Y-yeah well… I guess that’s true.”

He shrugged. “Everyone just tiptoes around it like they expect me to have been raised by these awful people because it gives them a justification for my ‘crimes’.”

“I-I didn’t say that – “

“Truth is,” he interrupted, his demeanour solemn. “I don’t really talk about them cause there isn’t much to say. They are just normal, loving parents who are disappointed at the situation their only son got himself into.”

Ann bit her lip, jaw clenched as she discerned the melancholy in his tone. She didn’t know what to say to comfort him, truth be told she hadn’t expected his response. She was not entirely sure what she did expect but she knew that on some level, she had been ignorant enough to believe that his home life coloured his current circumstances.

“Thank you…” she muttered quietly, offering him a small smile.

He scrutinized her from his position, muddled by her words. “For what?”

“For telling me all that.”

“O-okay…”

They stood quietly for a time, bathed in a peaceful silence that was only broken by the coo of a bird in the distance.

“I’m sorry your ‘training’ didn’t really work out,” he told her finally, shattering the tranquillity. “It was a valiant attempt.”

She laughed. “I know, I know…it was kinda stupid. I just wanna get stronger.”

“Yeah but…why are you so gung-ho about it all of a sudden?”

She smiled, memories from her childhood seeping into her cognisance. “When I was little, I used to watch this anime where the main villain was a female thief. She’d lose to the hero every time, but I always thought she was cool.”

“Oh?” he responded, cocking an eyebrow at her curiously. “How do you figure?”

“She wasn’t a good person per se… But she was beautiful, strong, sincere and even sexy.”

She stared up into the clouds dreamily, eyes trailing the canopy of cherry blossom above her as the crisp sunlight broke through the narrow divides left by the trees. “She always said whatever she wanted, did whatever she wanted… she knew what justice was for her and didn’t care if other people didn’t see it her way. I …wanted to grow up to be just like her someday.”

She smiled bashfully, cheeks rosy. “I hope I’m getting closer now, if only just a little bit.”

He smiled, warming Ann’s core like the sun shining unrelentingly above her. In true Akira fashion, his hands slipped in his pockets and he edged forward, decreasing their proximity with deliberate steps. He stopped when he was beside her, their shoulders parallel as he leaned forward to position his mouth as close to her ear as he could get without touching it.

“You are…” he whispered, his breath gingerly sweeping the nape of her neck. “On all counts.”

 

* * *

 

Boys liked Ann.

Hell, even men liked Ann, and Akira could only assume that women of like persuasions who had come into contact with her, also held a desire for the blonde bombshell. This was not a fleeting introspection, nor was it a cursory observation or even a topic for debate – it was a fact of life, and one that Akira had been continuously confronted with since forming an acquaintance with the undeniably charming girl. It was evident in the copious amounts of effort people expended just to keep her entrancing visage in their sightlines and made apparent by the way that she caused them to lose their train of thought by the simple act of being in a room.

His fellow thieves could also be counted amongst those that had fallen a victim to her appeal, with Morgana constantly parting from his ordinarily snide and prideful demeanour to fall at her feet and offer her a never-ending bastion of compliments and adoration. Even Ryuji, who only ever appreciated the most base level of appeal that girls had to offer, was entirely endeared by not only her external attributes but also her internal qualities, despite obvious attempts at trying to conceal this with light hearted jabs and the provocation of antagonistic banter. The newest member of their outfit proved that he was also not an exception to this rule, with Yusuke Kitagawa forsaking all social etiquette just to shadow her all around Tokyo in a desperate bid to convince the girl to pose as his muse to further his artistic pursuits. He was adamant in his pursuit of beauty, and had deemed Ann as the quintessential subject to represent this ideal.

Admittedly, the boy had not been the most socially adept individual Akira had ever had the pleasure of becoming acquainted with. In fact, he would daresay that Yusuke did not even rank within the top fifty. Yusuke was almost statuesque in the way that he carried himself, standing at a height that surpassed even Akira’s, who could already be considered quite tall in his own right, especially when compared against the average male Japanese teenager. Yusuke's luxuriant indigo hair sat daintily atop his head, with his fringe extending just past his dark eyes in an almost artistic flourish. It accentuated the angular bone structure that framed his narrow face, causing his elegant features to become the subject of appraisal for various females that he brushed shoulders with.

But despite his oddities, there was something about the boy that caused Akira to apprehend almost no hesitation in welcoming him into their fold. There was a quiet strength that dictated all of his actions, manifesting itself into a strong resolve to stand by his convictions and beliefs, despite how peculiar others may perceive them to be. Yusuke had been a Kosei High School arts student studying under the tutelage of famed Japanese artist, Ichiryusai Madarame, until the Phantom Thieves had successfully managed to uncover proof of Madarame’s plagiarism, effectively turning his most loyal protégé against him. Madarame was a man who offered sanctuary to struggling young arists, only to prey on their talents for his own gain and discard them when the last ounce of their inspiration and ability to produce good art had depleted. His desire to constantly succumb to his own vain tendencies had resulted in the birth of his palace, which had now been reduced to rubble, courtesy of the Phantom Thieves stealing his treasure – the original Sayuri artwork, painted by Yusuke’s deceased mother before Madarame capitalised on its beauty by claiming the masterpiece as his own.

The palace was gruelling, subjecting the thieves to multiple traps and an onslaught of shadows ready to unleash the full extent of their powers at the elderly artist’s whim. But despite all of the trials and tribulations the group had faced inside of the metaverse, Akira found that the true uphill battle had transpired in the real world, in their desperate bid to convince the blindingly loyal Yusuke that his mentor and the only father figure he had ever known was a complete fraud. The young artist had put them through their paces, frequently demonstrating to them the extent of his undying deference to Madarame. The conflict had escalated to the point where Ann had almost succumbed to Yusuke’s numerous requests to paint her nude.

 _Nude_.

The word resonated in Akira’s mind, the mental images it conjured leaving a searing impression on all facets of his consciousness. Akira had always thought himself above of the all-consuming lust that seemed to govern the emotions and actions of male adolescents. Sure, he had been attracted to a plethora of females in his sixteen years of life, but he always thought to carry himself with a certain level of collectedness and ease when faced with female attributes that would drive ordinary teenage boys to emulate behaviour that was reminiscent of slobbering dogs. Sadly, if Akira had learnt anything over the course of their investigation into Madarame’s crimes, it was that this train of thought and the pedestal upon which he had placed himself, amounted to nothing but complete and utter bullshit.

His recollection of his reaction when Yusuke asked Ann to pose nude for him, induced a grimace upon his otherwise placid features. It was as if the urgency of Yusuke threatening to report them to the authorities for trespassing, had absolutely no bearing on him and instead, his mind chose to fixate on Yusuke’s risqué proposition to Ann. Of course he had felt guilty for even entertaining such lewd thoughts, especially given how distressed his female confidante was over the matter, not even remotely hesitant in expressing her vehement refusal to the request. He consoled himself by the fact that he at least had the presence of mind to mask his fluster, but the same could not be said for Ryuji and Morgana, with the cat practically bathing in his own drool after catching wind of the proposal.

Akira eyed Ann as the five of them convened outside of Madarame’s shack back in the real world, drained from the gruelling battle they had just overcome. Even in her fatigue, she couldn’t mask her concern for Yusuke, her expression sympathetic as she watched him stare longingly into the original Sayuri, his emotional connection to the piece stronger than ever. As much as it pained him to admit, Morgana was right. Ann’s compassion for others was startling. It constantly exceeded his expectations, to the point where her stellar physical attributes had taken a back seat in hallmarking the blonde’s defining qualities – not that he would ever admit that to Morgana.

His phone vibrated in his hands, the notification from the metaverse app startling him back to the present. Ann’s eyes darted to his screen immediately, grimacing at the picture he had had set as his home screen.

“Oh god, are you ever going to change that, Akira?”

“Nope. Never,” he jeered, appearing amused as he looked down into his phone at a photo of a puffed up Ann, donning dozens of layers of clothing and sandwiched in between him and a beaming Ryuji. He reasoned that despite all of the perils they had faced in their pursuit of Madarame, he at least managed to get a new screensaver out of the ordeal.

“Neither!” Ryuji guffawed, gleefully holding his device next to Akira’s to reveal that he was brandishing an identical display.

“The destination has been deleted,” interrupted an automated voice from Akira’s phone, referencing the ostentatious gallery that masqueraded as Madarame’s palace.

A listless sigh escaped him as he looked at his teammates, trying to gauge their moods after the ordeal they had just faced.

“Are you okay, Yusuke?” he asked, nodding his head at the flamboyant teen standing opposite him.

“Yes…” Yusuke replied quietly, his eyes still glued to the canvas clutched tightly in his hands. “I will triumph.”

“That’s… well… good for you.”

He felt Morgana wriggle inside of his bag, pushing his head through the opening. “It would be bad if people started getting suspicious of us. We should leave at once.”

“C’mon, Yusuke,” Ryuji urged, beckoning to the young artist to follow him as he started on his way.

Ann’s eyes found Akira’s and his lips curved upward of their own volition, already fluent in her cues. He found himself constantly sporting an affable disposition of late, a natural consequence of the feelings of warmth he apprehended whenever any sort communication transpired between them, however incidental. He nodded as he watched her saunter toward him, the breeze causing her letterman jacket to sway loosely around her thin frame. They walked toward their station, their shoulders aligned as they chatted amiably about the Phantom Thieves acquiring a new member.

“So…” he murmured, nudging her. “Yusuke is rather…peculiar, isn’t he?”

“Well, that’s an understatement… But I’m sure he will make a great addition to our little team.”

Akira nodded. “That he will.”

“Right! You don’t really need social graces to kick shadows asses.”

“He’s an excellent artist too. His work is really exceptional.”

Ann agreed, bopping her head enthusiastically. “Seriously! The stuff I saw in his workshop was amazing.”

Akira found himself smirking as he recollected their prior encounters with the young artist, chuckling at Yusuke’s painfully candid nature.

“If it’s any consolation… I think he would have painted an excellent nude portrait.”

Ann growled, socking him in the bicep whilst Morgana hissed from his bag, conveying his blatant distaste at Yusuke’s crude request.

“FORTY-TWO SECONDS!” she blurted suddenly.

“Huh?”

“Forty-two freaking seconds!” she reinstated, furrowing her brows in contempt. “It took you a whole forty-two seconds to bring up that stupid nude painting! I was expecting you to hold out longer than that, Akira Kurusu!”

She released an exasperated groan, wrapping her hands around his arm and holding it in place as she thumped her forehead repeatedly against his bicep. She buried her face in the fabric of his coat, with Akira saying a silent prayer in the hopes that his fabric softener was pleasing enough to her senses.

“Why couldn’t it have been you?!” she moaned. “Why does this whole ‘naked’ thing have to follow me around forever?!”

“Actually, I’m rather offended he didn’t ask. I’m quite proud of my physique,” he mocked, flexing his arm whilst it was still in her grasp.

She pulled her head back, poking at the muscle curiously before she giggled. “Hey, not bad! Too bad ya look like a total string bean. You’ve gotta stop slouching! And start wearing clothes that are more form-fitting or something.”

“Woah, calm down. I’d hate for you to start losing modelling jobs to me.”

“We could always pose together,” she sung, skipping past him to plant herself firmly in his path and strike her fiercest pose.

He grinned, applauding her showmanship. “Well as enchanting as I’m sure you’d make me look, that might give everyone the wrong idea, no?”

She winked, poking her tongue out at him mischievously. “Hmmm… you’re right. Fancy that.”

He averted his eyes and slipped his hands into his pockets, immediately feeling the rigid shift in his countenance as he tried to find anything other than her probing stare to focus on. He was trying to obscure the fervour welling up underneath his skin, the same exhilaration that always threatened to burst forth whenever they towed the line between friendly banter and coquetry. It alarmed him how receptive he was to the back and forth and how dangerously close they always seemed to overstep the bounds of friendship. For someone who had spent a majority of his life keeping his cards close to his chest, their interactions were met with the same amount of intrigue and excitement, as they were hesitance and trepidation.

 _What the hell is wrong with me_ , he chastised himself inwardly, walking past her frame, as she continued to stand there bewildered by his sudden reticence.

In a split second, he managed to catch her ordinarily congenial features shift and evince a poignancy that he had not seen on her face since the Kamoshida ordeal. He felt awful for dampening the mood with his apprehension, the pensive look on her face leaving him with the unpleasant taste of ash in his mouth. Soon, he felt her presence beside him again, ready to resume their walk. It had only taken a few moments for the awkward tension to abate, with Akira reverting the conversation back to idle chatter concerning the tedium of Mr. Inui’s last lecture, a topic trivial enough for them to not be able to attribute any deeper meaning to the words they spoke.

They finally said their goodbyes when they eventually reached Ann’s building, with Akira watching her give one final wave before the automatic glass doors shut behind her. Long after they parted, he found that her honeyed laughter and the glimmer of her alabaster skin against the brilliant orange hue of the sunlight were still tattooed in his brain. He smiled for the entirety of his trip back to Leblanc, inadvertently verifying the indisputable truth, that boys did indeed like Ann. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally done with uni forevarrrr :'). Here's a chapter to celebrate!

“Why on earth would you invite him to this?!” 

Akira shrugged, shaking his head at an irate Ryuji before turning and staring back into the makeshift frame Yusuke had fashioned with his paint splattered fingers.

“Aesthetics?” he answered calmly, knowing it would inflame his bleach blonde companion.

The three of them and Mishima stood in the middle of an apartment bereft of furniture. The vacant unit had belonged to a neighbour of Ryuji’s that had moved out last week, making it the perfect venue for their evening hijinks. They awaited the arrival of a maid, not a run of the mill housekeeper or caretaker, but an actual chambermaid.  Complete with the provocative, yet clichéd, uniform that held the propensity to ignite a rampant lust within the minds of curious teenage males, as evidenced by the string of drool oozing out of the corner of Mishima’s mouth. The devised plan had originally included only three participants, Ryuji, Mishima and himself. But Akira could not resist the comedic disharmony that ensued whenever Yusuke was nearby, and so he extended an invitation to the indigo haired virtuoso.

Ryuji’s features contorted in exasperation, eyes shifting between Yusuke and Akira. “Well, whatever… just try to keep the crazy on the down low.” 

“Thank you again, Leader,” Yusuke spoke, ignoring Ryuji’s jibe and executing a dignified bow in Akira’s direction. “It is truly pleasing to know that you understand the intricacies of birthing inspiration.” 

Ryuji groaned. “Birthing?! Dude, why do you always talk like you’re in a play or somethin’?” 

“I’m not sure what you mean, Ryuji. But if you think me eloquent enough to star in the theatre then I am most grateful.” 

Mishima piped up from the corner of the room, dazed at the bizarre dynamic of the boys’ discourse. “U-um, Yusuke-san, do you by any chance go to the planetarium often?”

“Ah yes, the planetarium. To be enveloped in a cosmic marvel right in the heart of Tokyo…it’s truly wondrous. The inspiration for new celestial-themed palettes never ceases to strike,” Yusuke answered matter-of-factly, eyes glazed as he stared into the distance contentedly. 

“U-uh never mind…I think I already have my answer,” Mishima squeaked, immediately retreating behind Akira and away from the lithe artist. 

Akira smirked, surveying his friends from the vantage point he had secured in the far corner of the room. His eyes traversed each of their statures, inspecting the variations in their form. Their mannerisms were telling of their intrinsic traits, analogous to the manner in which the cover of a book is a representation of its contents. He spies Mishima, his meek and apprehensive nature manifesting itself into skittish mannerisms as he nervously chews on his cuticle. His burnished eyes flit anxiously between the door and his eccentric companions, telling of the impeding doom he was anticipating. 

The sound emanating from the friction of Ryuji’s sneakers as they stomped against the tatami floor seeped into Akira’s ears and drew his attentions away from his introverted classmate. His fellow Phantom Thief stomped around the room energetically, donning an electric violet hooded sweatshirt that perfectly represented his raucous nature. He impatiently paced up and down the length of the room, the plastic coatings at the end of his hoodie’s drawstrings rebounding violently against each other as his gait became more rambunctious. The boy was like a hurricane, wreaking havoc and blowing debris into all facets of Akira’s life.

Then there was Yusuke, even whilst stationary, he exuded the elegance that none of the boys in the room could ever hope to muster. His mannerisms were reminiscent of the norms prevalent in the Edo era of Japan’s history, a time when men were more stoic and dignified, carrying themselves with the same grace and posturing ordinarily associated with nobility. His eyes continually scanned the bare room, as if the spatial emptiness would spark his creative juices. 

As for himself, Akira remained calm and collected, much unlike his antsy classmates. Truthfully, he had only come to see the inevitable discord that he knew would ensue the moment Ryuji thrust the tawdry flier for ‘Victoria’s Housekeeping’ in his face. 

“S-shit,” Ryuji mumbled, eyes wide and glued to the floor. “I can’t believe this is really happening.” 

“A maid’s ‘services’,” Mishima mused dreamily, his features animated with promise and wonder. 

“What should we have them clean first?”

All three boys looked at Yusuke questioningly, Ryuji and Mishima’s faces particularly aghast with disbelief at the artist’s naiveté.

“You do realise we aren’t gonna actually have ‘em clean…right?” Ryuji affirmed. 

“What other reason could we have for calling a maid then?” Yusuke questioned, his expression exhibiting a genuine confusion that Akira knew could only come from someone as out of touch as the artist. 

“W-well, they’ll do any – “ 

“Nuh uh uh,” Akira interjected, cutting Mishima off. “Why don’t we just let him figure it out for himself when she arrives.” 

Ryuji clicked his tongue, grinning but shaking his head disapprovingly at the bespectacled boy. “Man, people like you just wanna watch the world burn don’t they?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Akira answered innocently. “I just don’t want to ruin the surprise for Yusuke.” 

Yusuke looked pleased at his leader’s answer. “Akira clearly comprehends the beautiful ideal of inspiration striking best when you are confronted with unfamiliarity.

“That I do.” 

A knock to the door startled them all into coherence. 

“Good evening, I’m from the housekeeping service,” said a chirpy feminine voice in the next room. Akira could not help but note the recognisability of its tone, filling him with a staggering sense of déjà vu. 

Within seconds all three boys had abandoned Akira, bestowing him with the responsibility of attending to the very real female separated from them by one thin panel of drywall. Ryuji and Mishima’s earlier vigour had instantly dissipated upon hearing the maid’s sultry call, whilst Yusuke insisted on staying but was hauled out of the room by Ryuji, who insisted that the artist’s eccentric musings would only aggravate the situation. 

The door to the bedroom creaked open and Akira immediately turned his back to the visitor. He was normally well versed in adapting to unfamiliar situations seamlessly, but something about this entire scenario caused Akira to apprehend a sense of foreboding.

“Excuse me… oh there you are!” the feminine voice greeted, its timbre lathered in a syrupy sweetness. “Welcome home, Master. I’m going to fill your tired heart full of lovely energy. Meow.”

_Did she just…_

“I’m Becky,” she continued. “And I have the pleasure of serving you today.”

Akira cleared his throat, back still turned to ‘Becky’ the maid. “Nice to mee-ow-t you.”

He heard Ryuji snicker from the balcony. 

_Curse you, Sakamoto._

Becky squealed. “We’re going to get along so well! Meeeeoowww! Oh, how thoughtless of me! I should explain our service to you, Master.”

Akira listened with a heightened sense of attentiveness that he should have reserved for academic lectures, ears perking when the maid suggestively offered him her ‘special’ services after listing off an array of basic household chores she could cater to. He soon felt her presence beside him as she leapt closer to his skittish frame, the warmth emanating from her body only fuelling his anxiety.

“Hmm…you look quite young, Master…” she speculated. “Are you…perhaps…in high school?”

_Fuck._

“I’m a dad,” he answered immediately, not fully comprehending the fiction spilling from his mouth. 

He heard a gasp from the balcony, which Akira reasoned had belonged to Mishima, given the high-pitched squeak that followed.  

“Akira is a father?” he heard Yusuke whisper. 

“Shut up you moron!” Ryuji muttered through gritted teeth. “She’ll hear us.” 

_Idiots…_

“Wow!” Becky purred. “Your skin’s so healthy! Fatherhood has done wonders to your complexion.”

The atmosphere grew thick with an uncomfortable silence. Akira could practically see the gears turning in Becky’s mind, slowly piecing together his clumsily formed deception. 

“You’re not lying to me, are you…?”

“Umm…no?” he answered, sweat trickling down to the small of his back.

“Hmm…I’ll wait to provide those other ‘services’ until you’ve matured a bit, Master…” Becky said, finally confirming his suspicions. “Soooo….I’ll be going now.”

Frantic movement could be heard from the other side of the balcony door as the boys scrambled, not ready to part with the risqué proposition Becky had earlier espoused.  

“What?! NO!” Ryuji bellowed in panic.

“Quiet!!” Mishima pleaded. 

“I-Is someone there!?” Becky exclaimed, stepping closer to the door to acquire a better view of her clandestine voyeurs.

“Shit!” Ryuji cursed. “Run, Mishima! Just leave Yusuke behind!” 

“Well that’s not very nice…” Yusuke pouted. 

“Mishima? Sakamoto-kun?” Becky called out, the tone of her voice rising simultaneously with her distress. 

_Wait, how does she…?_

Becky spun around, revealing herself as Sadayo Kawakami, Akira and Ann’s homeroom teacher. Akira gulped, scratching the back of his neck. Kawakami’s eyes narrowed at the boy, glaring freshly sharpened daggers in his direction. 

“Did you request me specifically?” she asked him, her tone so eerily calm that it caused the hairs on the back of his neck to stand on end.  

Akira quickly averted his gaze, eyes focused on the worn tatami mats as he offered her a feeble shrug. 

“Ugh…this is unbelievable,” she groaned, defeated. “Yes…it’s me…your homeroom teacher. I’m so done…I can’t believe I got caught by some of my own students.”

“What a marvellous twist!” Yusuke exalted from the balcony as Kawakmi instinctively tugged on her frilled skirt, evidently disconcerted by the situation. 

“Goddammit, I should have taken a job out of the city. Who did you hear this from? Was it that harpy Ms Chuono!? You aren’t going to tell her about this, are you?”

Akira adjusted his glasses, feeling himself slowly regaining his composure upon detecting the urgency in Kawakami’s voice. He met her gaze, just in time to spy her bottom lip quiver in agitation. Her face was coated with makeup. The rose pink tinge on her lips accentuated their pout and the reserved sweep of her mascara was enough to cause her gaze to tow the line between being subtle yet seductive. But the makeup could not disguise the heaviness weighing down on her eyelids as she fought to keep them open, revealing the immense exhaustion that plagued her. 

“That’s up to you,” he answered finally, ascertaining the equally precarious positions they were both in. 

To his surprise she jutted her hip out defiantly, refusing to capitulate to his thinly veiled threat. “Hey, if you’re going to side with a teacher, side with me. I’m in charge of your class, after all.”

“Fair point.”

“If you can keep this a secret, I’ll do anything for you.”

_Anything…?_

He brought a finger to his chin jokingly, feigning a deep state of reflection as Kawakmi tapped her foot impatiently.

“Hm, what to do…” he said mockingly, exaggerating each syllable in an effort to irk her further. 

She shook her head in annoyance, his impudence finally taking its toll on her patience. “God, Kurusu, You really are a menace aren’t you? You try to fool everyone with that quiet little exterior of yours…”

He laughed jovially, amused by the playful yet begrudging undertone to her words. “C’mon, Kawakami- _sensei_ , you know I won’t tell anyone. How would it look for a filthy crime boy like me to be calling a maid service anyway?”

Kawakmi laughed, despite herself. “Good. I’m glad you see reason. Now if you keep that promise, I’ll let you slack off sometimes in class. Can I count on your friends being discrete too?”

Akira momentarily forgot about the three boys huddled on the balcony until he heard them all shakily offer Kawakami their assurances in unison. 

“Good,” Kawakami said, satisfied. “I’ll treat this as a cancellation and we can just forget this ever happened. On that note, I’ll be leaving.” 

She threw Akira one final glare before making her swift retreat. The boys stumbled back in the room almost immediately after hearing the front door click shut. Akira was faced with a barrage of questions from the curious trio, fending off repeated requests from Yusuke asking him if he could inquire as to Kawakami’s thoughts on nude art. When Ryuji and Mishima were coherent enough to form adequate sentences, the boys dispersed, saying goodbye to Ryuji as he headed back up to his apartment just one floor above the scene of their humiliation.

Outside, he felt a tug on his sleeve and turned to find Mishima peering up at him with wide expectant eyes.  

“Akira… I kinda need your help with something.”

 

* * *

 

Ann pouted, trudging up the stairs as she made her way begrudgingly back to Shujin’s library. She had been on her way to visit Shiho when she opened her duffle to find her science textbook missing, affirming the nagging feeling in the back of her brain telling her that she had forgotten it in the library. Her footsteps echoed throughout the desolate corridors, the halls bereft of its ordinary cluster of Shujin students who had already dispersed for the afternoon. 

She turned the corner and was immediately stopped in her tracks by the sight of Akira and Kawakami in mid discussion. Their voices were hushed but their conversation seemed animated, with Akira flashing their homeroom teacher his trademark smirk. The same coquettish grin that he ordinarily reserved for … 

 _Me_. 

A lump formed in her throat, causing her breath to become ragged as it forced its way through her lips in strained bursts. A foreign sensation coursed through her veins, the green monster manipulating her brain like a marionette and prompting her hands to clench in resentment as she witnessed the intimacy transpiring between them. Kawakami pulled a pen from her skirt pocket, hastily scribing something down in the notebook she had been holding coyly against her chest. She tore the paper from the metal coil holding the pages together, folding the sheet and handing it to Akira. He pocketed the slip before saluting her, turning on his heel as he headed in Ann’s direction. 

Not wanting to reveal her stint as an ogler, Ann fled back down the stairs, forsaking her abandoned textbook in the library.

_Screw that._

 

* * *

 

“Okay, Ann. What the hell is going on? This is the fifth time you’ve sighed wistfully in the last hour.”

Ann looked up from her seat, spying Shiho peering at her with the best penetrative stare her friend could muster. She wriggled awkwardly under her friend’s probing gaze, unable to find a position in the armchair that would grant her comfort and still the nasty ruminations that had invaded her mind. She couldn’t keep her encounter with Akira and Kawakmi from her thoughts, the image of Akira’s amused face seared into her consciousness. She had never seen him engage so animatedly with another female before. 

She knew a number of girls in their class who were curious enough about him to earn their attentions, but their terror at his criminal past had always eclipsed their desire approach him. Knowing that she did not have to compete with other girls to vie for his attentions had always elated Ann, despite how vehemently she tried to deny these abhorrently frivolous musings from surfacing. Now, Akira was engaging in a rendezvous with someone else and their homeroom teacher, no less. 

_What the hell is he thinking!?_

“I-it’s nothing,” she muttered, already knowing that Shiho would not buy her flimsy assurance. 

“Ann, come on. This is  _me_  you’re talking to.”

Ann exhaled sharply, slouching in the chair as her gaze shifted to the cracks on the ceiling. “It’s… ugh, never mind.”

“It’s about Akira isn’t it?” 

Ann buried her face in her palms ashamedly, no longer able to retain the semblance of poise she had left. “How did you know?”

Shiho giggled. “Because you’re just so lost in your thoughts and lately, it seems that there are only two things that occupy your mind this much: desserts and Akira Kurusu. Now I know for a fact that sugar doesn’t make you frown like that, so it must be Akira!"

Despite herself, Ann managed a grin, asmused by her freind's method of deduction. “Don’t know if I should call you ‘Shiho’ or ‘Sherlock’ from now on…” 

“Why not both? Now stop trying to change the subject and just tell me what’s up.”

“I saw him – I saw him talking to another…girl…today at school.” 

_Woman, more like._

Shiho blinked at her, confused. “Huh? Does he not talk to many girls at school or something? Cause that sounds pretty normal.”

“No!” Ann interjected. “It’s not that. Of course he  _talks_  to girls. It’s just… this seemed kinda…suspicious. Like – ” 

“What? Like he was hitting on her or something?” 

“Yeah…I think she handed him her number too.” 

Shiho peered at her friend thoughtfully, studying Ann’s features with the same intensity she applied to championship volleyball games. 

“Okay…” she said slowly. “So what if he did? Aren’t you two just  _friends_? I mean, it shouldn’t bother you that much unless…” 

“Shiho!” Ann pleaded, cheeks flush at her friends insinuations. “It’s nothing like that, I-I just…”

“Yes?”

Before Ann could give her friend an answer that would satiate the brunette’s boundless curiosity, the door swung open, welcoming a nervous Yuuki Mishima into the confines of the cramped hospital room. Ann breathed a sigh of relief, silently thanking her classmate for saving her from being the subject of Shiho’s grand inquisition. That was until her eyes fell on Akira’s sinewy stature as it entered the room shortly after, closing the door behind him before offering the two girls a cursory wave.

"Mishima-kun!" Shiho called from her bed, eyes wide in surprise. "What are you doing here?" 

He approached Shiho, his steps laboured as he hesitantly drew closer. He stopped just before he passed Ann's chair, staring at her best friend with a resolute gaze Ann had never witnessed come from the timid boy before. Mishima lowered his head dejectedly until his entire body inclined in an ardent bow. The gesture elicited a gasp from both Ann and her best friend. She looked to Akira to sate her confusion, but he offered her nothing but his usual nonchalant shrug. 

"Suzui..." Mishima said quietly, head still hung. "I-I... I just wanted to apologise, for everything. What Kamoshida did was awful and I didn't do anything to stop it... I am so sorry, Suzui." 

Shiho's face-hardened as she inadvertently started to recall memories of her traumatic experiences. Her expression clouded, the melancholy in her demeanour stifled the atmosphere surrounding them, suffocating each person in that room. The four teenagers stood in silence, each party refusing to shatter the maddening silence that had befallen them. Ann silently looked to her friend, Shiho’s eyes flitted anxiously between the blanket cloaking her thin legs and the distressed boy bowing at her bedside. 

Her dough eyes soon locked on Mishima's remorseful frame, her gaze raw with emotion. The corner of her mouth tugged upward, the subtle action holding a profound effect on her features as the despair colouring her countenance began to slowly alleviate. 

"He did it to both of us, Mishima-kun," she told the boy softly, her voice just breaths away from breaking. "I don't blame you for anything. You don't need to apologise."

Mishima's head ascended slowly until he stood upright. He gaped at Shiho, expression hollow before he managed a smile on her behalf. 

"I-I... thank you, Suzui. I'm sorry for barging in like this but I just needed you to know...C'mon, Akira. Let's not bother them anymore." 

As he turned to leave, beckoning the bespectacled boy to follow, Ann could feel tears well up in her ducts. She laboured to restrain them, trying to retain her stoic visage so that she could afford Shiho the support that she needed. Her best friend's laugher pierced the oppressive atmosphere, shattering its severity piece by piece and astonishing each party in the room. 

"Mishima-kun, if you leave so abruptly after all that, then you'll really have something to apologise for," she joked, accentuating their welcome with a small pat on her bed. 

"A-are you sure? I-I don't want to trouble you two anymore..." 

"You two aren't any trouble. Right, Ann?" 

Ann bopped her head enthusiastically, mirroring her best friend's sentiments.

"Not at all, Mishima.  _You're_  no trouble at all," she assured him, making a show of extending her hospitality to Mishima, and Mishima alone. 

Shiho was immediately able to detect the sass dripping from her friend’s tone as Ann pointed her jibe at Akira, prompting the volleyball starter's mouth to curl into an all-knowing smirk and proving that their best friend telepathy had been more attuned than ever. Mishima smiled virtuously, taking a seat at the foot of Shiho's bed whilst Akira remained firmly planted against the wall neighbouring the door, arms folded across his chest as Mishima bequeathed them both with his profuse gratitude for allowing him and Akira to stay. 

Despite the boy's meek and reserved nature, Ann and Shiho had always held a soft spot for Mishima. He always carried himself with a quiet sincerity, never balking at the prospect of offering onlookers with a glimpse to his thoughts and emotions. His intentions always seemed good-natured, not harbouring any ulterior motives and never leaving anyone second-guessing their intent in his wake. 

_Unlike a certain someone I know..._

The three of them engaged in an amiable conversation, which primarily consisted of Shiho and Mishima catching up about the other members of the volleyball team. Just like that, the light-hearted chatter had assuaged the grimness hanging above each of their heads like a noose, taunting them into feeling the burn of the rope around their necks if they capitulated to the misery.  

She couldn’t help but spare Akira a few curious glances. She had tried to restrain herself, but to no avail, not wanting the boy to witness how fiercely she wished for his attention. It felt awkward not engaging with him whilst he was in such close proximity, their interactions had become so frequent and natural that it felt like a part of her was missing. She wondered if he had noticed and even felt the same way, but beyond his placid expression and observatory gaze, she could ascertain nothing.

Shiho and Mishima had soon exhausted all of the members of the volleyball team they could discuss. The brunette’s eyes began to traverse her visitors until they landed squarely on Akira. She sized him up with an impish grin that never failed rattle Ann's nerves but regardless, she was happy that the boys could witness Shiho like this, as the same playful and light-hearted girl that she had always known. It didn't seem fair that Ann had been the only one privy to the vivacity of Shiho's true character, it was a trait so infectious that it had been the catalyst for securing their status as best friends. 

"If you don't mind me asking, Akira-kun, why did you come along with Mishima-kun?" Shiho asked.

Ann threw a glare in his direction, eyes fixed on his pockets before travelling upward to his deep grey eyes. It irked her knowing that Kawakami's number was nestled comfortably in the pouch of his check pants. 

"Ahh yes," Ann jeered sarcastically. "The teacher's pet himself." 

Akira cocked an eyebrow in her direction, startled at her blatant show of hostility. He opened his mouth to speak but was hastily impeded by Mishima, who was more than willing to offer them an eager explanation for the bedraggled haired boy's presence. 

"I actually begged Akira to come with me... I've been wanting to do this for a long time but... I've been too scared," he explained. "Akira, gave me the strength to finally see it through." 

Akira scratched the back of his head shyly, unsure of how to respond to Mishima's heartfelt praise. 

"Uhh, what he said," Akira muttered. "Though, probably not as dramatic... I hope it's not too much trouble, Suzui." 

"Please, call me Shiho and no, it's not too much trouble at all. For  _me_ , at least," Shiho winked, throwing a pointed glance in her flaxen haired friend’s direction. 

Ann's eyes darted nervously around the room, praying that he was dense enough not to discern the meaning behind Shiho's playful jests. 

"Actually," Shiho continued. "It gives us a perfect opportunity to get to know each other." 

He smiled in response, that same audacious grin that always surfaced whenever he realised that he had piqued someone's curiosity. "What would you like to know, Shiho?" 

"Are you and Sakamoto getting a long well?" 

"Yep." 

"How are you finding Shujin?" 

"Just fine." 

"Do you play any sports?" 

"Nope, just the occasional trip to the batting cages." 

Ann and Mishima's eyes darted between Akira and Shiho as they traded a slew of pleasantries as handily as professional tennis players traded serves. Ann knew where this was going but her curiosity forbade her from putting a stop to it. She just prayed that Shiho didn’t do anything to embarrass her. 

“Are you seeing anyone?” she asked, expression deadpan as she peered directly into Akira’s stormy eyes. 

His features contorted with genuine surprise, taken aback by the overtly casual manner in which Shiho phrased the invasive query. 

“Uhh, no I’m not,” he answered, shaking his head. 

“Really?”

“Really.” 

Ann felt her body relax. As secretive as he was, she somehow knew that Akira was telling the truth. He had never lied when faced with difficult questions, even ones concerning his arrest. He often chose to employ humour or sarcasm as a diversionary tactic, but occasionally he surprised the inquisitor with an earnest answer. His vice had always been to omit information, rather than distort it. 

“Interesting…” Shiho mused. “Are you currently  _interested_  in anyone?” 

Ann’s eyes darted to Akira, only to find his own staring directly into hers. They each shared an odd look before hastily averting their gazes, neither one of them expecting the other to be staring back.

He snickered, trying to showcase a modicum of resistance to Shiho’s probing onslaught of questions. 

“Rather inquisitive today, aren’t we?” he chuckled, evading her question. 

Shiho winked and shrugged. “Just curious!”

“Mhmm…” 

“Don’t worry, Akira!” Mishima chimed. “I’m sure you’ll find someone soon. A lot of girls always ask me about you.” 

“Wow, somebody’s popular!” Shiho giggled. 

“More like,  _infamous_ ,” Ann winked, finally deciding to take part in the exchange. 

Akira grinned, welcoming her interruption with his usual understated delight. She smiled back warmly, hearing gales of Shiho’s melodic laughter in the background. She looked to her friend, seeing no more traces of her customarily trite expression as her features burst with a radiant elation. Seeing her friend happy was enough to cause Ann’s earlier irritation for Akira to ebb, Shiho's heightened mood ultimately trivialising her and the boy’s earlier quarrel. Instead, Ann chose to be in the moment with her friend, because for the first time in a long time, Shiho Suzui was well and truly alive.  

* * *

 

Akira stepped out of the classroom, the usual routine playing out like clockwork.

He moved through the doorway, pretending not to notice the pair of crimson eyes trailing his every move from behind a magazine too garish to pique the dignified reader’s interest. Without fail, he felt her eyes burn holes in his back as he moved inconspicuously through the school, weaving through the clusters of students eagerly discussing their afternoon plans. She maintained a safe distance from him, akin to the way a lioness patiently bides her time waiting for an antelope to enter a state of vulnerability before she makes her kill.

But Akira knew she wouldn’t pounce, that wasn’t her modus operandi. Observation had been her ultimate goal, but ‘to what end’ was the question that Akira wanted answered. He had a treat for her this time, a challenge that would test the limits of her dedication. He moved through the school, ensuring that she had little trouble keeping his visage in her sights, this was not where their game would begin. 

He stepped out into the streets of Ayoyama-Itchome, walking past students milling outside the school gate. He jumped on the next train to Shibuya, all the while embodying the carefree persona of a boy who was completely ignorant of the fact that his Student Council President had been shadowing him for the past few weeks.

Much to his delight, Shibuya Station was particularly crowded today. He waited until he could detect her deep brown hair in the corner of his eye before insinuating himself in the flock of students packed into the underground walkway. Soon he is cloaked amongst a sea of black blazers and plaid bottoms, weaving through the crowds nonchalantly and careful not to engage in any conspicuous behaviour that would draw her attention. His actions earned him a few miffed glares and curious glances from the teenagers he sidled closely against, but none of the stares possessed the tenacious glint that accompanied their Student Council President's when she pursued him.

When he was assured that he was safe from her predatory gaze, he took refuge behind a nearby pillar outlying the mass of commuters. It did not take long for him to spot her frantic form, shooting past him as her head darted madly from side to side as she scanned the area for her slippery target. He grinned, gathering his duffel from the station floor before taking stealthy strides toward her. 

Finally, he manages to position himself behind her, unable to wipe the triumphant smirk plastered across his face. 

_Now the hunted becomes the hunter._

“Good afternoon, Miss President,” he told her, his tone dripping with a forced sweetness that was entirely unnatural to him. “It sure is busy in Shibuya today, isn’t it?”

To his surprise, she did not turn around immediately and give him the frenzied reaction he sought. Instead she chose to straighten her shoulders and recapture the prim facade he had momentarily hijacked with this game of cat and mouse. 

“You know what they say about congestion in Japan,” she answered, finally deigning to grace him with her full attention. “Perhaps you should be paying closer attention to social studies to get a better grasp of it…it’s practically an epidemic." 

She smiled, a simple gesture that is juxtaposed by the twinkle in her gaze that promises her retribution. 

“Perhaps I should. Have a good afternoon, Miss President," Akira said, bidding her a congenial farewell. 

Unbeknownst to each of them their lips curl in unison, each contender acknowledging that the game is far from over. 

 


	9. Chapter 9

Akira’s eyes lingered on the moonlight filtered through the blinds, each luminescent streak illuminating crevices of the antique enclosure that had been dubbed his home since his arrival in Tokyo. Upon an initial inspection, Akira found the room to be decrepit, lacking in any appeal in comparison to the capacious quarters he had back home, courtesy of his parents owning and operating the most trusted general practice in his hometown. But the more time he spent confined to the attic, sweeping away the layers of dust that had gathered atop every surface and clearing away the cobwebs that had materialised in each corner of the room, he soon found himself developing an unparalleled affinity for his new abode. 

The room reminded him of Sojiro Sakura, the surly, yet oddly sentimental, café owner who had taken him in and allowed him to reside in the attic above his cafe. The space was rough around the edges, but brimming with a certain indefinable charm that rendered it utterly timeless. Superficially, Sojiro was just as gruff and inaffable as the attic, not hesitant to constantly reinforce his blatant distaste at the circumstances that catalysed Akira’s disruption into his quiet, unassuming life. But the more time Akira spent under the man’s tutelage, learning the ins and outs of coffee and curry, the more Akira had been privy to his inherently caring and protective nature, and in a similar fashion to the rundown space, his guardian had become more palatable with time.

Throughout his sixteen years of life, Akira had found that few people held the propensity to hold such a profound effect over his life, and even fewer people managed impact him positively. Sojiro Sakura was, without a doubt, one of these people, and the other was a certain azure-eyed knockout with a brilliant head of corn silk hair, who had successfully managed to insinuate herself as a permanent fixture in his Tokyo life. But unlike his guardian, Ann could not be likened to the attic. Her exceptional qualities weren’t implicit and concealed under a layer of dust and forgotten magazines. The girl was exciting, dynamic and impossibly beautiful, and she wore these traits on her sleeve for all to see, never reluctant to place her cards on the proverbial table. He envied that kind of courage, it demanded far more bravery than the spunk he mustered when faced with the physical threats of the cognitive world. 

The sound of his phone vibrating against the hardwood floorboards startled him from his musings. He checked to see if Morgana’s deep slumber had been disturbed, but the cat remained dead to the world. He rolled over and scooped his phone from the floor, seeing a message from Ann flash across his screen.

_Speak of the Kitty Woman and she doth appear._

 

> **Ann** :  **U awake?**
> 
> **Akira: No**
> 
> **Akira: ZzZzZzZz**
> 
> **Ann: LOL stop u nerd!**
> 
> **Akira: (¬** **‿** **¬)**
> 
> **Ann: \ (•** **◡** **•) /**
> 
> **Akira: What’s up?**
> 
> **…**
> 
> **…**
> 
> **…**

_Oh no…_  he thought, feeling the agonising pinch of not knowing what awaited him on the other end. It never took Ann this long to compose a message. If she had to second-guess whatever she was typing, he could only imagine it would require an equally vexing response.  

> **Ann: What’s going on with you and Kawakami?**

_What?_

 

> **Akira: The same thing that's going on with YOU and Kawakami.**
> 
> **Ann: Huh?!**
> 
> **Akira: She's my homeroom teacher**
> 
> **...**
> 
> **...**
> 
> **Ann: Ur an ass.**
> 
> **Akira: Why?!**
> 
> **Ann: I saw you two talking after school today…**
> 
> **Ann: It was weirdly…intimate…**
> 
> **Ann: And she handed you a note…**
> 
> **Ann: Even weirder.**

_Crap_.

His stomach inadvertently turned at the realisation of what Ann was implying. 

> **Akira: That was NOT what it looked like.**
> 
> **Ann: Then what did the note say.**
> 
> **...**
> 
> **...**

His fingers dashed over the touch screen keyboard, typing a plethora of explanations that were anything but the truth. His digits were antsy and ready to formulate an appropriate fictional tale to sate her barrage of questions. They were prepared, but he wasn’t. He hadn’t lied to her before, and he wouldn’t start now over a trivial misunderstanding. 

> **Akira: She gave me her number**
> 
> **Akira: But it wasn't what it looked like**
> 
> **Akira: I promise.**
> 
> **Ann: The only way I can believe that is if u tell me what is actually happening.**
> 
> **Akira: I can't.**
> 
> **...**
> 
> **...**
> 
> **Ann: Don't u trust me?**
> 
> **Akira: I DO.**
> 
> **Ann: Woah! You caps locked!**
> 
> **Akira: I DID. Because I mean it!! |˚–˚|**
> 
> **Akira: I trust you.**
> 
> **...**
> 
> **...**
> 
> **...**

The next few seconds he spent awaiting her response distressed him more than they should have. He was never one to agonise over a text, whether or not someone wanted to communicate with him was immaterial. But oddly, this situation felt more dire to him and his heart stopped when his phone finally buzzed with her reply.

 

> **Ann: Okay. I trust you too \\(^** **◇** **^*)/**
> 
>  

* * *

 

_Rustic._

No other word could be used to describe the Leblanc café, home to arguably Japan’s most flavoursome curry and coffee, or so her tastebuds had decreed. The cafe had an antiquated charm that only the most discerning of tastes would appreciate. Its long, sprawling counter had been crafted from polished mahogany, the nicks and dents splayed across its surface telling of piece’s maturity. At the bar’s end sat an ostentatious canary yellow rotary phone that accentuated the old-time feel of the establishment, along with the forest green plush booth seats and the dimly lit pendant lights that swung above her, Ryuji and Yusuke’s heads as they lined the counter, complimentary beverages in hand.  

Just sitting there made Ann feel as though she were in a 1940s noir film, mesmerised as she watched the steam from her coffee rise in an almost artistic swirl. She cheerily took a sip of the rich brown liquid, cradling the mug against her as she allowed each milky sip to overcome her tastebuds and slither down her throat. The air was thick with the aroma of coffee beans, sending waves of nostalgia rippling throughout her body. Its essence had clung to Akira like a life raft, intermingling with the fragrant aroma of his soap to create a scent that she could only ever attribute to him. She watched as he diligently worked behind the counter, polishing the coffee utensils at Sojiro’s urging. It was oddly satisfying to see the rogue portray this picture of domesticity, prepped to cater to her every whim whilst donning an apron that somehow managed to negate his ordinarily sleek disposition.

“This place looks so out-dated,” Ryuji piped up, practically inhaling his iced mocha. “I can’t say I hate it though.” 

“I believe people refer to that as ‘retro’,” Yusuke affirmed. 

“Thank you for having us, Sakura-san!” Ann beamed, throwing Akira’s guardian her most amiable smile. “This coffee is delicious!”

“I should be thanking you guys. I know this one can be quite the handful,” Sojiro scoffed, gesturing to his ward. 

Ann shook her head vehemently. “No, really! Akira has been so great!”

Her abundant praise for the boy was met with a knowing smirk from Sojiro, his eyes darting pointedly between the two. “Hmm, good to know. By the way, you kids can just call me ‘Boss’.”

Akira grinned, his shoulders perking. “If he gets to be called ‘Boss’, then I get to be called ‘Daddy’.” 

Ann and Ryuji giggled whilst Yusuke cocked his head curiously to the side, not fully comprehending that Akira’s statement was a joke. 

“I think ‘smartass’ actually suits you better, kid,” Sojiro teased, mouth curled in amusement at the boy’s antics.  “Now finish up so you can join your friends.”

“Oh!” Ann exclaimed suddenly. “Now I remember where I’ve heard of this place before! I saw it in a magazine.” 

“That was a long time ago,” Sojiro chuckled. 

Akira smirked. “Ah, yes. It was the summer of 1859 and-- “

“You’ve got some lip on you today, kid!” Sojiro huffed, his features wrinkled with a scowl, but the slight upward curl of his lip told Ann that he was more amused than irked by Akira's jibe. “Go on and take your friends up to your room before more grey hairs start to sprout on my beard.”

Akira laughed, wiping his hands with a nearby towel and slinging over his shoulder as he beckoned his friends to follow him upstairs. The boys thanked Boss for their beverages, eagerly scurrying after their frizzy haired friend. Ann rose from her seat enthusiastically, keen on finally getting a glimpse of Akira’s room.

“So,” Sojiro said, his questioning tone stopping her dead in her tracks. “You’re uhh…”

“Ann!” she answered merrily. “Ann Takamaki.”

“’Ann-chan’ huh? That’s a nice name," he replied, eyeing her curiously. “You got a boyfriend?”

Her eyes widened, startled by the question put to her. 

_Ugh, this was how Akira must’ve felt when Shiho gave him the third degree._

“Nope,” she answered simply. “Never have, either.”

To her relief she heard Ryuji’s voice bellow from upstairs, his tone giddy with excitement as he called to her. “Yo, Ann! You gotta get up here! This place’s freakin’ insane!”

“Go on,” Sojiro urged, flashing her an easy smile.

“Oh, right. Thank you for the coffee!”

She gathered her things and made her way upstairs, slightly irked that the boys had left Morgana downstairs for her to carry.

 _What is Akira feeding this cat_ , she wondered, finally experiencing how cumbersome the feline was to cart around.

When she finally laid eyes on Akira’s room, it was difficult for her to mask her astonishment. The space was large and every bit as antiquated as the café below it. It had been sparsely furnished, bearing little to no signs of its current inhabitant. But upon closer inspection, Ann was able to detect a few pieces around the room that gave it Akira’s personal touch.  There was the work table in the corner where he fashioned his lock picks under Morgana’s close supervision and the oddly positioned chair just at the foot of his bed, the same chair he had told them he used for strength training.  

“Wow,” she said in awe. “It’s cleaner than I thought it would be!” 

Morgana mewed from his position by her feet. “I'm glad you think so, Lady Ann! You all can sit wherever you’d like.”

“Well, as long as Morgana says its okay,” Akira said sarcastically, plopping himself on the edge of his bed with a smirk.

The rest of the Phantom Thieves followed in suit, each finding a nook in the room to position themselves in comfortably. Yusuke pulled his phone from his pocket, eyes darting from side to side as he scanned his screen.

“We’re all over the news…” he told them. “Even those who previously believed in us have been influenced by the comments made on TV.”

Ryuji grunted, features contorted with rage. “This is all that fucking Akechi’s fault!”

“Keep it down! We don’t want anyone hearing us.”

Ann sighed dejectedly, leaning her elbow against her thigh as she cradled her chin with her palm. “At this rate we’re just going to worry everyone instead of giving them courage…”

Try as she might, Ann could not help but sympathise with Ryuji’s sentiments. It had been disheartening to see the high of their latest victory short lived and surpassed by the accusatory public comments made by the famous boy detective, Goro Akechi. During their class field trip to a local television station, they were invited to be in the audience of a local talk show that hosted an appearance by the detective. They watched, with restraint, as the boy publicly admonished their actions on national television, inciting other members of the crowd to brand the Phantom Thieves as criminals. The worst part of the ordeal had been acknowledging that Akechi’s reasoning was not entirely flawed. As much as she tried to supress the doubts that ate away at her at her confidence, she could not help but let her mind wander to the thought that maybe their band of thieves had been perverting the course of justice by forcing changes of heart upon their targets.

“It’s time to find a way to make our rightfulness known to society,” Morgana enforced. “Weren’t we supposed to discuss this today?”

“Right,” Akira affirmed, expression austere as he wholeheartedly committed to his role as their leader. “We need to pick a target, but we can’t be stupid about this one. Everyone’s eyes are on us and we need to show them that we aren’t the hooligans Akechi portrayed us to be.”

“It’s not like we’re just gonna stumble upon some important target though…” Ryuji reasoned dispiritedly. “You guys don’t know anyone, do you?”

Ann and Yusuke shook their heads in unison, disappointed that they weren’t able to contribute anything significant to the discussion.

“Look, obviously Mishima’s site has been helpful for the odd Mementos request,” Akira continued. “But no one is gonna talk about big targets on an Internet forum. Why don’t we start focussing on what’s on the news?”

Yusuke nodded. “That could work. The news has far better coverage than any forum can offer. We should keep our attentions attuned to current events.”

As soon as the last word left his mouth, a highly audible rumble emanated from his stomach, prompting the artist to clutch his mid-section in an effort to ease the hunger pangs that plagued him.

“What the…” Morgana mewed, amazed by the ferocity of the growl.

“Sorry,” Yusuke moaned. “I haven’t eaten anything since last night.”

The three of them eyed Yusuke with incredulity, confronted with the reality that the ‘starving artist’ cliché was more than just an ordinary trope. They agreed to table their discussion until a new target surfaced and resolved to have a hot pot welcome party for Yusuke instead, courtesy of Ann’s creative thinking. 

“We must finish it off with porridge,” Yusuke demanded, flicking his hair in a grand flourish. “We will require ginko nuts, wonton wrappers, and--"

“Bro!” Ryuji interjected, mouth agape. “How do you propose to pay for all that!? You don’t have any dough on you!” 

Akira shot up from the bed, shovelling fistfuls of yen into Ann’s hands. “Here! Just let the man have his porridge. If I hear his stomach rumble again it might send me into a deep depression… I mean, Morgana practically weighs more than him.”

“Hey!” the feline hissed, digging his claws into the wood floors in irritation. 

Yusuke flashed their leader his most tranquil smile. “Your generosity will be rewarded, Akira. Should you ever feel the need to commission a self-portrait that truly captures the essence of your resplendent aura, I would be most happy to oblige.”

“U-uh…thanks,” Akira blushed, scratching the back of his neck. “I’ll keep you posted on that…”

Ann giggled, thrilled at the prospect of Yusuke finding a muse other than herself to exploit for his artistic pursuits.  

“Okay!” she beamed, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “Off to the supermarket we go!”

 

* * *

 

In his friends’ absence, Akira headed downstairs in search of a suitable pot they could cook in.

“I heard you’re all having hot pot for dinner,” Sojiro inquired, eyes trailing the boy as he rummaged behind the counter.

“Wanna join us, Boss?” Akira offered.

“Don’t you know how busy I am? You guys go have fun.”

Sojiro paused, rubbing his bearded chin thoughtfully. “That girl…”

“Yes..?” Akira groaned, already anticipating the conversation’s trajectory.

“Her name was Ann, right?”

“Yes…”

Sojiro nodded, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “She’s a nice girl.” 

“Yes…” he answered cautiously, wary of the suggestive undertone in Sojiro’s voice. “She is.”

“We had a nice chat,” the restaurateur told him.

“That’s Ann, once she starts, she doesn’t really stop.” 

The man chuckled. “At least she’s charming. Better than a certain wise guy I know.”

Akira huffed, feigning envy. “Oh is that so, old timer?  Maybe you should have agreed to become _her_ guardian then.”

“Maybe I should have!” Sojiro retorted jokingly. “Do they accept refunds at the broody young delinquents store?” 

“Oh touché,” Akira laughed, ducking his head to scan the shelves lining the interior of the counter.  

“I’ve been doing this longer than you, Kid,” the bearded man teased. “By the way the pot you’re lookin’ for is in the kitchen cupboard.”

Akira thanked him, retrieving the pot from its designated station and dashing upstairs to set his room up for their evening festivities. When his friends returned, a multitude of shopping bags in hand, they wasted no time in preparing the hotpot and digging into their meal, their hunger eclipsing any desire to engage in further pleasantries that would only delay them from sating their ravenous appetites. They inhaled every last bit, each participant reclining in complete satisfaction when the last morsel had been consumed. Akira spared a guilty glance at his training chair, knowing how much extra work he would have to put in just to burn off even a fraction of what he had consumed today.

“I can’t eat another bite…” moaned Ryuji, his expression pained as he slouched over the table.

Morgana mewed pleasantly, batting his eyes in Ann’s direction. “That was delicious, Lady Ann! I’m sure you’ll make a wonderful bride-- “

She yawned, barring the cat’s blatant attempts to flirt with her.

“Sorry… I think I’m gonna have to borrow the sofa,” she said drearily, reclining on her side and dismissing Ryuji and Morgana’s attempts to see if her position granted them an all access pass to her undergarments.

Akira shook his head disapprovingly, flicking Morgana playfully on the ear. 

“Nice try,” he whispered, as the feline arched his back in disappointment. 

The cat peered at Yusuke curiously, discerning the artist’s surly disposition. “What’s wrong, Yusuke?”

“We haven’t finished our meal…” the boy answered dejectedly. “What about the porridge…or the udon…?”

“Just leave it for next time, man…” Ryuji groaned, expression pained as he clutched his mid section. 

Akira gave Yusuke an understanding pat on the shoulder. “Good game…good game.” 

Yusuke offered him a resolute nod before his eyes danced over Ann’s sleeping form, her breaths were heavy, indicating to the boys that she was in a deep slumber.

“By the way, Ryuji,” the artist probed. “How do you know Ann?”

“We went to middle school together.”

“What was Lady Ann like back then?” Morgana questioned, eyes gleaming with childlike curiosity. 

“Not so different from now. Once we got to high school, we ended up in different classes and stopped talkin’,” Ryuji said, his tone was neutral but Akira managed to catch a hint of melancholy in his stare as his eyes lingered on her sleeping form. “She never really had many friends. I mean she grew up overseas… plus there’s her looks. The popular kids hate her and the quiet ones stay away.” 

“I see…Okay, so how do you two know each other?” Yusuke asked, gesturing to Akira and Ryuji. 

“Ryuji was bullying me and then saw the error of his ways,” Akira interjected, sparking an erratic reaction from his faux blonde friend.

Ryuji slapped his palm over his forehead, teeth grit. “Dude!! You gotta stop telling people I bullied you! You say it so seriously too, everyone is gonna believe you!”

“That’s why it’s funny,” Akira shrugged, taking a delicate sip from his water bottle.  

Ryuji eyed him, mouth agape. “Maaannn… you are dark.”

Akira laughed, hoping that he had successfully steered the conversation away from their pasts. He knew that if he allowed it to continue down this path, inevitably their attentions would turn to him and he would be forced to divulge details to his teammates that he still hadn’t fully confronted within himself. Much to his dismay however, Yusuke remained resolute in his quest to unveil more information about his teammates, and before he knew it, Ryuji was partway through his life story. Ryuji’s tale never failed to make Akira grimace, the injustice was not something he could take likely and Yusuke’s was much the same. 

Akira would be lying if he said that Akechi’s words had not resonated with him for the past few weeks. He had questioned his own intentions many times, often entertaining thoughts that alluded to their actions falling within the grey area of the spectrum of true justice. But each one at the table, save for Morgana, had been exploited by an adult wishing to preserve their own status in society at the expense of someone they considered to be expendable. And ultimately, he reasoned that if he could stop others from being subjected to the same dismal fate that had claimed him and his teammates, then it was still a chance he was more than willing to take.

Eventually, the boys’ attentions were focused on him, the conversation taking the trajectory that Akira had anticipated as they probed him for information concerning his arrest. He sighed with a hint of resignation, his eyes sparing a quick glance in Ann’s direction before he finally succumbed to their intense desire to ascertain more about his circumstances. He began to painstakingly recall all of the events that had had propelled him into his Tokyo life, the memories igniting a rage within him that he tried to quell with a clench of his fist. 

 

* * *

 

_"Make this statement to the cops…” the drunken man said, looming menacingly over the woman he had just tried to violate, thick droplets of blood trickling from the gaping wound on his forehead. “’This kid suddenly attacked me’. Got it?”_

_Akira’s chest tightened as he glimpsed the woman’s features contort in defeat, his insides telling him that his fate had been sealed._

_“If you try to say anything else… you know what will happen to you,” the man continued, barking threats as casually as one would trade pleasantries._

_“This is bullshit!” Akira pleaded. “You fell on your own! I barely even touched you!”_

_“Shut up. You’re done for. You’re going to learn what happens when you cross me…” the man answered calmly, a maniacal smirk plastered on his face._

 

* * *

 

Ryuji’s face darkened as Akira concluded his tale, starling everyone when his fist slammed violently against the table, rattling all of the cutlery and utensils sitting atop its surface.

“That is bullshit!” Ryuji yelled. “Just listenin’ to it pisses me the fuck off…Goddammit! You got an assault on your record just for that?”

Yusuke frowned. “The woman sounds quite horrible as well. She’s just stayed quiet this entire time…”

Akira nodded sombrely, eyes fixated on the small nick he glimpsed on the side of the earthenware pot. From the slight chip stemmed a sprawling crack that extended up to the pot’s rim, one more careless blow and the crockery would be reduced to a heap of shards.  

“That man is just the kind of person whose heart we should steal!” Morgana contributed energetically. “Who is he and where can we find him?!”

“I don’t know…” Akira answered, eyes still locked on the fracture. “He was integral to my arrest but somehow managed to keep his identity entirely out of the ordeal. Someone with that kinda juice must be almost untouchable. It wouldn’t change anything anyway…”

The boys shared a crestfallen sigh, each of them acknowledging the hopelessness of the situation. It touched Akira to know how readily his friends were to fight on his behalf, but it was ultimately a fruitless endeavour and his fate had already been sealed a long time ago.

“I can’t stand it… This world is so messed up!” Ryuji proclaimed indignantly. “The weak are left to fight for themselves, while the rotten adults get away with whatever they want!”

“And those in power don’t do anything to help the situation,” Morgana added pensively. 

“Can’t we fix this though?” Yusuke reasoned. “Nobody would even know. We just need to show the world what true justice is. We’ll make them come to their senses.”

Akira grinned, savouring the newfound confidence that Yusuke’s words had ignited within him. “Yusuke is right. We can’t change our fate but we can change someone else’s. Doesn’t that make this all worthwhile?”

Ann stirred from her slumber, eyelids fluttering open as she slowly started to regain her consciousness.  

“What are you all getting excited about?” she yawned, stretching her arms above her head as she spied Ryuji excitedly rising from his seat.

“Oh, sorry,” Ryuji muttered apologetically. “Did we wake you up?”

She shrugged. “Eh, it’s alright. I need to get home anyway. That reminds me, Yusuke, the owner said you could crash here tonight.”

“Excellent,” Yusuke smiled in satisfaction.

Ryuji’s eyes widened. “You convinced Boss?! You go, Miss Older-dude-charmer!”

Ann grimaced. “What kind of nickname is that?”

“Hmm,” Akira teased, bringing his finger to his chin. “Sojiro and Ann… Just promise not to kick me out of the attic when you two tie the knot.”

“Ew!” Ann exclaimed emphatically. “How about I just kick you right now instead?”

“Hmm,” Yusuke mused. “I won’t be able to sleep unless I take a bath…”

“There’s a bathhouse nearby so you can go there. I won’t be able to join you though, for obvious reasons,” Morgana answered, licking his paw proudly.

Ryuji beamed. “Oh that sounds great! Wanna come too, Ann?”

She shook her head in refusal. “Nah, I gotta head home.” 

“Walk me,” she told Akira, throwing a pointed glare in his direction. “You can join them later.” 

Akira shrugged. He couldn’t help but notice that Ann had phrased her words as a demand, rather than a question. With no room to refuse, he rose from his seat obediently and followed her downstairs.

 

* * *

 

The crisp evening air stung Ann's cheeks as she stepped out into the reticent streets of Yongen-Jaya. She heard the door to the cafe click shut behind her as Akira trailed her dutifully through the winding the alleyways. They spent the walk primarily in silence, both parties waiting for the other to balk.  Eventually, the responsibility fell on Akira to finally disrupt the tension permeating between them, after ascertaining Ann’s adamant unwillingness to offer him a segue and speak first.

"You know if you wanted to get me alone, all you had to do was ask," he said in jest, trying to placate the rigidity in the atmosphere. 

Ann bristled and spun around abruptly, no longer willing to maintain her farce. Irritation tugged at her insides when she had overheard Akira regale the boys with his story, a tale that he continually kept from her despite the countless hours they had spent together trying to cement their friendship. It troubled her knowing that he did not have the same confidence in her, that she did with him and she had finally resolved to confront him about it face to face.

"Why don't you trust me?" she asked brusquely, her tone unwavering as she allowed her frustrations to envelope her. 

A laborious sigh passed through Akira’s lips as he brought his hand to his forehead in exasperation "This again? I thought we cleared this up last night." 

"Yes this again! You just told Ryuji and Yusuke all of those things about your arrest that you never even once mentioned to me." 

"Ahh," he murmured, a roguish smile creeping to his face. "So you weren't sleeping."

"Nope." 

"And they say you're a terrible actress..." 

She managed a triumphant smirk, despite herself. “Yeah, yeah you caught me, but stop dodging the question! The point is that you told everyone these things when you thought I was asleep. But for all of the other times that I’ve actually been lucid enough to engage with you, you give me literally nothing. It’s so frustrating!”

“You never asked...” he said meagrely.

Ann groaned, irked by his feeble excuse. “Stop saying that! You forced me to confide in you all those months ago, but when it comes to revealing information about yourself its like pulling teeth. I just want to get to know you better… don’t you think you owe me that courtesy?”

He leaned into the shop wall behind him, back eased against the smooth rendered brick. Their eyes stayed locked as he gaped at her, allowing an oppressive silence to overcome the atmosphere surrounding them. His gaze was intense, making Ann feel as though she had the weight of cement blocks hanging on her shoulders. It wasn’t hard to perceive the ruminations swirling around in his mind as he stared at her raptly, searching inside for an answer that would sate her. Soon, a warm smile tugged at the corners of his mouth and shattered his façade, his features softening as continued to gaze at her. 

“Takamaki,” he said softly. “Surely you know by now that I trust you more than anyone else.” 

Her cheeks blazed uncontrollably, flushed from heat surging through her. “W-well… all evidence points to the contrary.”

“What more can I say?”

“Don’t say anything. Just prove it,” she said meekly, swinging back and forth on her heels nervously.

Ann didn’t know what she expected when she issued the challenge, but the only thing she knew for certain was that she never anticipated what would transpire next. Akira pulled himself from the wall, wearing a resolute expression as he took languid strides toward her. He stopped just a few inches from her frame, his demeanour evocative of the nerves that had suddenly overcome him. His eyes were transfixed onto the wall behind her as he released a diminutive sigh. There was a heaviness to his actions that Ann had never witnessed from him before, they evoked a sense of finality that caused nerves to bubble madly in her chest. 

Silently, he raised his hands so that his fingers clutched the arms of his glasses. He slipped them off his face and angled them towards her, Ann detecting the almost imperceptible shake of his hand as he slid them over her eyes, resting them gently against the bridge of her nose. She pawed at the spectacles curiously, bewildered by what he had done until she realised that the lenses did not distort or fuzz her vision.  Consistent eye examinations over the years had told Ann that her vision was perfect, so sporting any kind of prescription eyeware would have undoubtedly blurred her sight, but with Akira’s glasses on, she was able to see just as clearly as she ordinarily did. 

“W-wait what?!” she stammered. “Why are they--"

“They’re fake,” he answered her simply, moving back to admire her perplexed expression with an impish grin. 

“B-but why? I don’t get it. Why are you wearing fake glasses?”

“Because it’s my mask… outside of the metaverse.”

“Mask from what?”

He exhaled sharply, eyes downcast as he restlessly kicked at the gravel near his shoe. “I-It’s hard to explain but… after everything that happened, I just wanted to be someone else.”

“Akira…” she called to him, her tone meek.

“You’re the only one that knows,” he told her. “The only one I trust with this… _my_ secret.”

Ann peered at him from behind the thick black frames, mesmerised by the show of vulnerability in his countenance. It was just like Akira to coat his feelings with ambiguous statements, as though he was too frightened to just explain in simple terms exactly how he felt. But none of that mattered to her anymore, his actions had always been more clear than his words and in one simple gesture, he had obliterated all of her reservations and revealed a part of himself that nobody but her had been privy to before.

They gaped at each other from their positions as another bout of silence passed between them. The deep understanding Ann had sought for so long had finally begun to form between them, blanketing her with ease. She slipped the glasses off her face and reached for Akira’s hand, placing them gingerly in his palm. His fingers brushed against hers as he closed them around the frame, sending a wave of energy through her. Neither of them spoke a word, not pressured to break the oppressive hold of the quiet. Her eyes found his and they shared a smile, affirming that the silence meant more to them than words.  

 

* * *

 

“You know, I’ve been wondering for a while now… But what do you think about Ann? As a ‘girl’, I mean?” 

Akira scooped water in his palms and splashed it over his face, the temperate liquid a welcome relief to feeling of claustrophobia caused by the thick layers of steam building up around them. His eyes darted between Yusuke and Ryuji as the boys peered at him questioningly, their probing stares barely visible in the mist as they eagerly awaited his response to Ryuji’s question.

 “She’s breathtaking,” he answered, attempting to downplay the severity of his words with a casual smile.

“Ohh, you just came right out and said it, huh!?” Ryuji grinned, nudging his friend in the ribs. 

“Why lie?” Akira shrugged. “Everyone knows she’s attractive.”

“It would be like calling Van Gough’s ‘Starry Night’ an eyesore,” Yusuke reasoned. “Some things are just undeniably pleasing to the senses.”

Ryuji bopped his head, running a soaked hand through his bleached locks. “Yeah you’re right. In her case though, her looks totally make up for her overbearing personality. I mean, she’s totally loud, obnoxious and  _soo_  pushy, but--"

“But?” Akira probed.

“But…” Ryuji continued. “Ann is amazing and any guy would be lucky to date her. W-would you ever…?” 

Akira exhaled sharply, eyes following the steam as it rose in one large cloud of white above their heads before dissipating slowly into the air. 

“I don’t know,” he answered truthfully. “We’re friends. That’s more important than anything.” 

Ryuji nodded. “That’s true. But if you do ever, ya know, decide to go for it… I-I think you guys would really balance each other well…” 

Akira shot up and gazed at his friend, catching the faint smile that played at his lips. They locked eyes, each boy sizing the other up in the mist. For the first time in a long time, Ryuji’s features weren’t contorted with his usual hyperbolic elation or fury. Ordinarily, the boy was as easy to read as a road sign, with Akira expending little to no effort in trying to gauge his moods at any given time. But now his friend wore a taciturn expression, one that outright denied Akira entry into the inner workings of Ryuji’s reflections. The uncertainty left Akira feeling awkward and self-conscious, and without realising, he almost submerged his entire body into the water. 

“Well, if anyone cares to know my opinion on the subject,” Yusuke interrupted, starling his two friends who had momentarily forgot about the artist’s presence. “I don’t think either of you are suited to her. She deserves a gallant dreamer who can not only open her mind, but help to release her--"

“Stop right there before ya say somethin’ pervy, man!” Ryuji interrupted, flinging water aggressively in Yusuke’s direction before the cobalt-haired boy could finish his sentence.

“You sound just like Morgana,” Akira snickered, lowering himself deeper into the bath.

The noise of his friends bickering in the background turned into a faint murmur as he submerged himself completely and closed his eyes. His limbs felt weightless under the water’s release, making him feel as though he were cascading through an endless void. All that he could perceive in the darkness were eyes tinted by a tropical ocean. He drifts closer to them as their gentle lustre captivates him, cleansing him of his stress and rinsing away his inhibitions bit by bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I gave Akira's parents jobs.


End file.
